Fear of Flying
by HowlynMad
Summary: It seemed like they were destined to become part of each other's lives. No matter what either of them had to say about it. Jackson/Lisa, Begins right after the movie, more danger, more assassins, & more of that chemistry between Jackson and Lisa. Chapter 13 plus chapter revisions added.
1. Chapter 1

Just a FYI - When I went back to this story to add chapters, I also re-read what I had and decided it needed some fine tuning so I am uploading revised chapters. Some of the earlier chapters have some significant dialog changes, later chaps not as much. Let me know what you think?

Fear of Flying

A Red Eye Sequel

_Lisa stood looking down at the man that had just spent the last twelve hours terrorizing her. She should feel relieved and she was, but there was also so many other emotions that she couldn't even identify cursing through her. She was angry and she was oddly.. accomplished. She also couldn't help but feel pity? Compassion? for the monster that lay at her feet. How? Why? She wasn't sure, except, maybe she understood how someone could become so dead inside. All it took was one shattering event to change your entire perspective. If you let it..._

oooooooooooooo

The sound of sirens was quickly becoming louder and louder. Jackson raised his head. Lisa and her father were still hovering over him. They weren't about to let him out of their sight. He was hardly in any condition to go anywhere. He'd been stabbed twice and shot twice. It suddenly occurred to him that he might not have to worry about the organization that he worked for because he might be dying.

He took a deep rasping breath. It was hard to breathe. His chest and shoulder felt like they were on fire. He couldn't feel the tear in his throat anymore. He was starting to numb, which meant he was going into shock.

The sirens were close now. They would be here within moments. It wasn't like the cops could tie him to anything.. much. But it wouldn't matter, he had been compromised. He had come to the attention of the authorities. His identity wouldn't stand up to scrutiny, so he was of no more use to his employers. And when you were useless, you were dead.

Jackson found that the idea of death didn't scare as much as he thought it should but the manner in which he would be dispatched was of some concern. Hopefully, his wounds _were_ fatal so he wouldn't have to find out what "they" had in store for him for failing to complete the contract.

"Dad, you should go out front and flag them." The older man looked like he was about to protest, "It's ok, leave me the gun. He's not going anywhere."

"You and I are going to have a long talk," he said and then handed her the weapon. "Be careful."

Lisa nodded.

Jackson looked around again. This would be his last chance. He knew, even before he moved, that it would be pointless, but he had never been one to give up easily. His stubborn determination had served him well in the past. Pressing his elbow to the floor, he tried to roll to the side so he could sit up, but instantly regretted it, when a sharp pain shot through his chest. He hissed through clenched teeth.

Lisa took up a position just out of reach and pointed the gun at him. "What do you think you're doing? You're not going anywhere."

Jackson took deep gasping breaths. "You think you've won something, Leese? You don't even know what game you're playing." He gasped as pain wracked through his body, "You have any idea.. what they.. will do to me for failing?"

"Why should I care if you get what you deserve?"

"Because you're the one that thwarted their plans, that's why," he rasped. "You're as much responsible for the job not getting done as I am," his words held a touch of smug arrogance.

Something crawled along her spine at the realization that he was right. She had foiled an assassination attempt. Someone would not be happy. Someone other than the wounded man lying before her.. and he was bad enough. "I can't worry about that."

"You should."

That sounded very much like a threat. "It's over, Jack."

Jackson Rippner just smiledbut there was nothing but venom in his stormy blue eyes.

"In here."

The sound of footsteps all around him was the last thing Jackson heard until he woke up three days later.


	2. Chapter 2

"What the hell do you mean you haven't arrested him yet!?" Joe yelled at the FBI agent. "Were you even listening to what my daughter told you about that man? Are you out of your mind?"

"Please, Mister Reisert. You have to understand the situation. Mister Rippner is currently under guard as a material witness. Even if he could leave the hospital under his own steam, which he can't, he wouldn't be going anywhere."

"What the hell!? Do we just let assassins roam free these days? Huh?"

"Dad, dad please, let's hear Agent Thomas out before you decide to behead him. Ok?"

"Miss Reisert, I'm doing everything I can, but at this point, we can't connect Mister Rippner to the attempt on Keefe's life."

"What do you mean?" Lisa questioned, "I told you exactly what happened. What he said."

"Exactly. You told us. But that's not proof. It's just your word against his. He was nowhere near the hotel at the time plus no there's connection to Keefe at this point. Until we have something that connects him to the situation, I can't arrest him for involvement."

"Involvement?" Lisa gawked, "It was his plan!"

"I understand and with all you told me about Rippner, this could be big, bigger than anyone realizes. If he is what you say then there's no telling how many other murders he might have been involved in.. or who's been backing him."

Joe interjected, "You have to charge him with something! He tried to murder me and my daughter."

"Mister Reisert, you said that the intruder hit you from behind. So you never saw Rippner hit you, correct? And you were unconscious when the attack took place on your daughter. So you didn't see that either."

"Do you think he was at my house for a Sunday BBQ? Come on! He had his hands on my daughter. It wasn't with the intent to ask her to dance!"

"Right now, if we have to, we can hold Mister Rippner on a charge of assault with a deadly weapon. He's not going anywhere." The agent paused and nodded towards Lisa, "But I think you should know that there are a lot of looks in your direction as well."

"What do you mean?" Joe thundered.

"Dad." Lisa sighed, "Because I'm the one that called to have Keefe's room moved right? It makes me look like I'm involved." I wonder if that was part of his plan or just a bonus, she thought bitterly.

"Now that's just plain ridiculous. To think that Lisa could be involved in anything like this is asinine."

"Didn't anyone on the plane see or hear anything besides me?" she questioned.

"I'm afraid not. According to the other passengers, everything looked normal right up until you stabbed Mister Rippner."

Lisa shook her head. "You should know, cornering me on the plane wasn't part of his original plan. He was making it up as he went along. Keefe altered his schedule at the last minute and then my gramma died. He could have.. would have.. walked away from this whole thing unscathed if things had gone to plan."

"Miss Reisert, it would help me in my investigation if you could answer a couple more questions. Would you mind hanging around a few more minutes?"

"It's fine. It's not like I'm getting any sleep anyway."

"Some of the witnesses interviewed said, they thought, well, they thought you and he were together. That you seemed to be very.. close."

"I can't help what they thought. He manipulated me into trusting him and then things just went to hell from there. I had no idea he was any more than a charming, attractive man that I bumped into on a plane. At least, until, he revealed his true intentions." Lisa's face hardened, "He had me completely fooled."

"This may be an indelicate question but it has to be asked."

"Go ahead, Agent Thomas. Whatever you need. I just want to make sure Jackson Rippner never hurts anyone ever again."

"All right then, I'll be blunt. Did you have sex with Mister Rippner in the bathroom aboard the Red Eye flight?"

"What!?" her father's face flushed to a purple hue. She thought he might seize up and have a heart attack at any moment. She couldn't say she was all that surprised by the perception though. Jackson had played the whole scene to perfection. He had been the charming, solicitous companion the whole flight. No one was the wiser.

"Dad, could you please go get me some water.. please. Please." Joe looked like he was going to refuse, "Please, dad. I don't want to have to recount this with you here."

"All right, baby. Whatever you need." He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "I'll be right over here."

She nodded. "Can we sit?" She motioned the agent to a row of vinyl chairs lined up against the wall.

"Of course."

Lisa seemed to fold into the hard plastic chair and sighed. It was all so raw. She didn't want to have to relive it. It reminded her too much of the last time she had been violated. But if she couldn't find the strength to do this then another monster might get away. And she wasn't going to let that happen again.

No use putting it off. "I didn't have sex with him. He pushed his way into the lavatory when he saw that I had written a message on the mirror, trying to warn someone of what was happening. That's how I ended up with all the bruises on my throat. He wasn't interested in sex, he only wanted to throttle me."

"Did anyone see this?" Thomas scribbled something in his notepad.

"There was a little girl outside the bathroom. She may have seen him push his way in but that's all she would have seen. Maybe she heard something?"

"Ok, we'll check that out. You had the police take pictures of your injuries, correct?"

"Yes. It's all been logged. I spent almost four hours yesterday with the local police and then you FBI guys showed up. I'm sure Homeland Security won't be far behind."

Thomas nodded. "You're probably right. That's what I was trying to explain. We can't just jump into this. I'm sure you realize, this has larger repercussions. We need to find out all we can about Jackson Rippner and whoever he works for. You and your father will be protected but we need to know everything, leave nothing out. Rather it seems important to you or not."

"Am I really a suspect, Agent Thomas? I mean they can't really believe.."

"Miss Reisert, someone tried to kill the Deputy Chief of Homeland Security. I, personally, don't believe that you were part of it but you _were_ involved and we need to put all the pieces together. Agents are still out in-force talking with witnesses and sifting through rubble. We haven't even been able to talk with Rippner yet. So you can see why a determination has yet to be made."

The Agent's cell phone rang, "Excuse me a moment."

"Of course." Lisa leaned her head back. When was this nightmare ever going to end?

"You have something?" Thomas rose and walked a few steps down the hall, out of earshot.

The voice on the other end was quick to answer, "Something very interesting. The dead guy at the Reisert scene? Turns out he's EX-CIA, been working as a merc for the last ten years. Mostly in the former Soviet block had some friends in high places, if you know what I mean."

"Hm. Lends credence to the girl's story."

"Yes and no. We still haven't come back with anything on Rippner. He doesn't have an employment record, credit history, or military record. No police record either, not so much as a traffic ticket."

"A spook?"

"Maybe, but no agency would claim him now so it's a moot point. There _are_ public records for a Jackson Rippner out of Phoenix, so the ID is legit enough, but we're not sure yet that its one and the same guy. There are some irregularities."

"Such as?" Thomas sighed, this was going nowhere fast.

"A Michael and Emily Rippner died in an accident about fifteen years ago and their then twelve year old son, Jackson, vanished before the State of Arizona could move him into foster care. No one's heard anything from him... until now. We're trying to track down other family members, see if we can get a positive ID but that's not looking much better."

"Either the guys a spook or our guy stole the real Rippner's identity... or none of the above. So in essence, we have nothing." Thomas exhaled sharply, "I don't have to tell you the pressure that's being brought to bear on this. Homeland is on their way here now. The more information I have on Rippner before they get here.."

"I'm on it." There was a click.

Thomas walked back to where Lisa now stood, waiting. His expression was pensive. "Tell me again what Mister Rippner said when you asked about his job."

"He called himself a manager. Said that he specialized in high profile assassinations and government overthrows."

That sure as hell sounded like the CIA. But it wouldn't be the first time they contracted out for an assassination... but to go after one of their own? It was beyond risky, a foreign agency made more sense. "But he never named who he worked for..."

"I did ask. Of course, I never thought he was serious. I asked if he was a spy and he said, no. So then, I asked if he was a hitman. He said, he was a lousy shot." Lisa paused, "I guess, I should have clarified rather he used other methods," she noted bitterly.

"This was not your fault. In fact, if you hadn't fought back, then Keefe and his family would be dead right now. And frankly, no matter what Rippner promised, you and your father would be dead as well. Not very many people could have done what you did. You should be commended."

"I don't feel very proud right now. I killed a man with my car. And dealing with Jackson..." a tear rolled slowly down her cheek. "I did what I had to do, Agent Thomas, but I'm not proud of it. I don't know what I feel."

"It's understandable. You're in shock. Having to go through what you did, anyone would be traumatized. You should go home and get some rest."

"My father's been trying to get me to do that since I told him I wanted to come to the hospital. It might not make much sense but I feel like I need to be here. Like, it's not finished yet... I need to see this through."

"I think, I understand. Believe me, we're going to do everything we can to make sure Rippner is through."

"Thank you." Lisa swallowed a lump in her throat. Why didn't that make her feel better?


	3. Chapter 3

"So doctor, what's the verdict." Agent Thomas crossed his arms over his chest. "You know the situation. I need to get in there to talk with him as soon as possible."

Lisa stood next to the FBI agent. She needed to know Jackson's status. Even knowing he was injured and confined, she couldn't help feeling dread that this was far from over. What Jackson said back at her dad's place had her worried. Someone had probably paid a whole lot of money to have Keefe assassinated. What did you do in a situation like this? Ask for refund? Someone would not be pleased.

The doctor opened a manila file folder and scanned the contents, "He has to be one of the luckiest men I've ever seen. The gunshot to the chest? It glanced off a rib and lodged against the lung without puncturing it. Shoulder wound went in and out clean. The stab wound to the neck? Punctured his larynx but shouldn't cause any lasting damage. His voice will be good as new. If anything, the stab to the thigh was the worst of it. He lost some blood with that one. But again, we managed to repair everything without a hitch. It's pretty amazing."

"So he'll make a full recovery?"

"I don't see anything indicated here that would suggest anything else. Of course, he needs bed-rest and time to heal. Infection is always a concern so we've already started him on antibiotics. Given anything unforeseen, Mister Rippner stands an excellent chance of making a complete recovery."

"So there's no medical reason now, I can't talk to him?" Thomas grilled.

The doctor considered, "No, but he's in and out of consciousness. And he's pretty out of it from the pain meds but I suppose if you keep it short. I just wouldn't expect too much from him. He'll be more coherent in a couple of days.."

"It can't wait a couple more days. If he can talk then I need to see him. Now."

"Ok," the doctor closed the file. "Follow me."

oooooooooooooooo

Jackson Rippner had a private room at the end of the hall on the third floor. There was a guard stationed outside the door. But at the moment, he wasn't really aware of any of it. He was floating on a sea of drugs. It was a good thing too because he really hated not being in control. There was a low tapping sound coming closer. It was familiar but Jackson couldn't bring himself to really care. Then a muffled voice cut through the fog.

"Mister Rippner?" "Mister Rippner can you hear me? My name is Agent Thomas. I'm with the FBI."

Jackson opened his blurry eyes and stared up at the man in the cheap suit. He was holding up something small and shiny. Drugged or not, he sized up the situation in a split second. "Whu?..." he tried with his newly repaired voice.

Thomas flashed his badge. "I need to ask you some questions about the attempted murder of Charles Keefe. Specifically, the events on the red eye flight to Miami and the incidents right after."

Jackson's eyes finally focused. How long had he been out? He vaguely remembered the trip to the hospital and a doctor telling him he needed immediate surgery. Days or even weeks might have passed. No, it couldn't be that long as he was still alive. He still might have some time. "Murder? What?" he croaked.

"I've spoken with Lisa Reisert, she told a pretty fantastic story about you. But given the fantastic events of the last couple of days, I have no reason not to believe her."

A couple of days, he'd been out a couple of days. That wasn't too bad. "Lisa?" Jackson's eyes widened, "The crazy woman on the plane. She attacked me. Why? Why would she do that?"

"Why? According to her, you terrorized and attacked her, threatened to kill her father, then chased her down and tried to kill her. And the little bit about what happened at the Lux Atlantic. Any of this ring a bell?"

Jackson frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied with as much sincerity as he could muster. "I know I shouldn't have chased her but she stabbed me! She was going to get away. I wasn't thinking clearly. I was just trying to stop her before she could hurt someone else. She's disturbed. She needs help."

"I see." Thomas said with no little disdain. "She attacked you for no reason then?"

"I'm sure she had a reason, Agent." Jackson felt like he was swallowing glass. He cleared his throat and pain shot up his neck. The little bitch was going to pay for this. "I just don't know what it is."

"Uh huh. So you don't know anything about Charles Keefe?"

"Who?" the question almost came out a squeak. "Could I please have a drink of water?" Jackson motioned to the side table.

"Deputy Chief of Homeland Security, Charles Keefe." Thomas pushed the wheeled table over to the bed.

"Oh." Jackson poured a small cup of water and drank. The cool liquid helped quiet the fire in his damaged throat. "What about him?" That was much better.

"Someone tried to assassinate him." Thomas began tapping his pen against his notepad. "According to Miss Reisert you were involved."

"What? I don't understand." He pushed himself higher onto the pillows. "Why would she say that?" he questioned with the shake of his head. "She's crazy."

"Why were you at her father's house?" Thomas pressed.

There really wasn't a good reason that he could give for his presence at dear old dad's but in the end it didn't matter. "I followed her there, yes. I was trying to stop her. I was in shock, the pain and loss of blood. I, sure as hell, wasn't in my right mind. I remember... I saw someone on the floor. There was a lot of blood. My god, I think, she killed someone."

"So you didn't try to stab her with a knife?" the agent scribbled something else on the pad.

"No... no. I had to defend myself. She went crazy." He paused, "Then, I remember, there was a man. He had a gun. He shot me." Jackson closed his eyes. A knife will be the least of that bitch's worries when I get out of here, he thought.

"Look Rippner, what say, you just save us all a lot of time. There's no way you're walking away from this so you're only option is to make a deal. **B**ut I need to hear some truth here."

Jackson inwardly groaned, was this guy serious? Yet another pedantic FBI rube, "I am telling you the truth. I met Lisa in the airport waiting for the flight to Miami. We hit it off right away. We had drinks and talked then we sat together on the flight. We even.." Jackson paused.

"What?" Thomas stopped tapping.

Jackson choked back a cough, "Sorry, my throat.. well, you know." He looked at the wall then back to the agent. "This is rather embarrassing. It's not like I usually do this kind of thing but we.. well.. joined the mile high club."

The agent's eyebrows rose slightly, "Is that so."

"Yeah. First time for me." Jackson shook his head ruefully, "And we got busted for it. Pretty suave huh?" He smiled sheepishly. At least, he could deflect a little.

"That wasn't how Miss Reisert remembered it," Thomas offered.

"I'm not surprised. She went completely crazy on me after that. Right before, she stabbed me, she talked about being attacked in a parking garage." Jackson closed his eyes as if remembering, "She had this scar," he motioned with his hand to his chest, "Right here. I didn't realize, you know, until after she started talking about the attack. Then she just lost it and stabbed me. Ask anyone on the plane what happened if you don't believe me."

"We're talking to witnesses. I'm sure we'll get a clear picture."

"You already know I'm telling you the truth."

"What I know, Mister Rippner, is that you don't seem to have much of a past. As far as I can tell, no one has seen or heard of you in fifteen years. Care to explain that?"

Jackson's expression was placid but his stomach churned, "I don't know what you mean. After my parents died, I moved in with extended family. I've lived out of the country until a few months ago. I don't know what more I can say." His identity was already being called into question. Who knew how many agencies now had his face to go with the name. They might as well have put a bullet in his head.

"I'm sure you could provide proof of your whereabouts then?"

"Check my passport." Jackson closed his eyes tightly. "I'm sorry, Agent, I'm very tired. Could we finish talking later?" If there was a later, he didn't have much time left.

"You think delaying this is going to help? Homeland will be here within a few hours. You sure, you don't want to talk to me?"

Jackson mumbled something under this breath, his eyes still closed. He slowed his breathing.

"Mister Rippner. Mister Rippner?" Thomas shrugged, "Suit yourself. I'll be back in the morning... and I won't be alone. You're not walking away from this."

No, but I may have to run. Jackson thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Lisa had been pacing the halls waiting for the agent to finish questioning Jackson. The ordeal should have been over the moment he was taken into custody but she had a sinking feeling that it was far from over. Jackson Rippner was not about to go down without a fight. And as crazy as it sounded, she felt that she needed to be here to make sure that the authorities really understood who this man was and what he was capable of.

She paced slowly back and forth in the hallway. Every nerve in her body was tensed. She needed to see him. She wasn't sure why or what it would accomplish but she needed to talk to him. To.. to what? Damn it, she was really losing it. *_Suck it up, we've come too far.* _his condescending tone ringing in her head still made her bristle. There was unfinished business between them.

Agent Thomas made his way down the hallway. He sighed as he approached. "How did it go? What did he say?" Lisa asked.

"Miss Reisert, you're part of this investigation. I'm not..."

"I know. I know. Honestly, I'm not trying to get in the way, I promise. I want to help. I just, I don't know how to do that."

Thomas eyed her speculatively, "He's painted himself as the victim of an unprovoked attack. He said you were unstable. Basically, blamed everything that happened on the plane and afterwards on you."

Lisa snorted, "Who does he think will buy that crap?"

"All it takes is doubt, Miss Reisert." Thomas motioned her over to the waiting area. "I need to ask you something else."

"Of course."

The agent looked away. "Do you have a scar on your chest?"

Lisa's eyes widened slightly. "What the hell did he tell you?"

"I'll take that as a yes, then. I warned you about leaving things out." He sighed, "Were you the victim of an attack before?"

"That has nothing to do with this! He wants to keep everyone off balance until he can figure a way out. I mean, he's injured and alone. His job went to hell and his employers probably aren't very happy. He's in deep shit."

"What would you know about that?"

"Doesn't take a genius. Besides he said something to that affect when he had me cornered in the bathroom. Something about both our jobs catered to others needs and how we would suffer when those needs aren't met. It's a pretty clear analogy."

"He can be quite convincing."

"Please tell me you're not buying any of his bullshit."

The agent smiled. "I have a high tolerance for bullshit. Between me and you? I think Jackson Rippner is a dangerous man."

"Thank you," she sighed with relief.

"Don't thank me yet, Miss Reisert." Thomas shook his head, "If I were you, I would get myself a lawyer as soon as possible."

Lisa snorted, "Great."


	5. Chapter 5

Fear of Flying

Chapter 5

Lisa looked at her watch yet again. It was late. She was glad that she had finally been able to convince her dad to go home. It hadn't been easy but she was worried about his health. All the stress wasn't good for him. It wasn't good for her. But strangely she felt more invigorated than she had in a long, long time. She wasn't exactly sure what that said about her state of mind but she was willing to give herself a break. After all she had just survived a night with an assassin and lived to tell the tale.. so far.

So far.. there was something she was missing. Something that still wasn't right. Lisa looked up and down the hall. She needed to talk with Jackson. A plan formed in her mind.

"Jackson. Jack!"

The prone man stirred. His arctic blue eyes opened groggily. His glance finally seemed to focus on the figure at the end of the hospital bed. "Lisa? What are you doing here?"

"I just can't seem to get away from you I guess."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing. How did you get in here?"

"I slipped past the guard."

"Underestimating you is a mistake. I learned that the hard way." he stated softly.

His voice sounded much better now, only slightly hoarse. Well of course it would, since he didn't have a hole in his throat anymore. Lisa inched closer, resting her hands on end of his bed. "You must lead a charmed life. I overheard the doctors say you were going to be all right. No lasting effects from any of the injuries apparently."

Jackson scoffed, "No lasting effects? You know better than that."

Lisa nodded; she suspected that would be the case. Failure wouldn't be an option for someone in Jackson's position. She should want him dead for all he had put her through but she wasn't willing to hold that kind of hate inside. It would eat away at you until there was nothing left. Nothing human anyway. She'd spent two years coming to terms with hate and rage. Maybe that was what had happened to the man laid out before her. Who knew? But she had to try. "Make a deal Jack. The authorities can protect you."

Jackson managed to rasp out a laugh. "What do you want Lisa? The truth this time. You just come to make sure they throw away the key?"

"The key, the lock, the whole damn cell."

"No, tell me how you really feel," Jackson quipped.

"You'll never hurt anyone again, not if I have anything to say about it."

Jackson's expression was suddenly innocent, "I don't know what you mean. I would never hurt you.. or anyone else for that matter."

She hadn't really believed that he would give anything away but it was worth a shot to try. "Save it for the cops. I've already seen beneath the mask."

"Mask? You're an unstable woman Lisa. Delusional. You need help."

Lisa seemed to change her mind and nodded, "All your assurances of honesty and you're nothing but a liar and a murderer. Who are you _Jack_? What are you?"

"Same question. Why are you here?"

"Maybe I want to see the freak in the cage."

"Afraid?"

"I don't need to be afraid of you anymore."

"What makes you think it's me you need to be afraid of?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have no idea what you've done. Who you're dealing with. I know I'm dead, no matter what I do. But you.. you're as dead as I am. You just don't know it yet."

"You threatening me?"

"Just stating a fact. And if you think your fed buddies outside don't already know that, then you're even more naive than I thought you were."

"I still don't.."

"They'll use you for bait Lisa. They don't have a damn thing to connect me to the attack on Keefe."

"They have _me_."

"They have your word against mine. I promise you, I'll never see the inside of a prison cell. And no matter what the feds tell you about justice, they don't really care if I walk or not. What they're after is my client list."

"And your "clients" aren't about to let that happen. So they'll come after you."

"Something like that."

"Then what do you have to lose by cooperating?"

A slow smile crossed Jackson's face. It chilled her to the bone, "What?"

"It's about to get very ugly Lisa. You thought the Red Eye was rough? You have no idea the shit-storm you've unleashed. And you're right in the middle of it. You and your father."

"Don't you threaten him. Don't you dare, not again you son of a bitch."

"I'm not threatening either one of you. I'm warning you what's coming. Before, you were nothing more than a convenience, but now you've put yourself into the game. I'm not the only player here. You could have walked away from all of it. But you just couldn't let it go. You just had to prove that you couldn't be hurt again. But the truth is Leese, no one is safe, not ever. No one has that kind of control."

"You weren't going to let me walk away. Don't even try to sell that crap."

"Despite what you might think. I'm not a monster."

"Evidence to the contrary."

"I'm tired. Why don't you go away now."

"It's not a good feeling to feel trapped is it? To be powerless. Impotent."

"Don't bother Leese. Won't work on me. You can't mind-fuck me."

"A _mind_ fuck will probably be the least of your worries where you're going." She instantly regretted saying it the moment it left her lips. She wouldn't wish what had happened to her on anyone. Not even her former tormentor. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Why not?" Jackson asked curiously, no trace of anger in his hushed voice. "It's fair. You get hurt, you want to hurt back. Simple human nature."

Was he trying to ease her conscience or make another statement about the world in general? All his matter-of fact declarations on the plane about his job, disassociating himself from the people that he killed, the underlying bitterness to those conversations spoke volumes about something in his past. "What happened to you to make you like this?" she asked, genuinely trying to reach him.

His demeanor suddenly turned dark and his eyes turned stormy cold, "I could ask you the same thing, but then again, I already know all about you. Don't I."

She shook her head. "No, no you don't. You only know what I wanted you to know."

"Yet another thing we have in common."

This wouldn't get her anywhere. He was a master manipulator. Whatever he said couldn't be trusted. So it didn't matter what he said. Why did she even care? Maybe it was a case of Stockholm Syndrome. She wasn't sure. But it was like something inside her had been fundamentally changed.

It wasn't like what had happened after the rape. That was trauma. She recognized it even if she couldn't overcome it. This was something different. Something she couldn't identify but it scared her. Like he had awoken something that had been sleeping inside her and now she could feel it creeping around. It was dark.. and exciting. She shook her head lightly, insanity.

"If you're having some kind of mental breakdown do you think you could take it outside? I'd like to get some sleep."

His sarcastic tone brought her right back to the moment. "You should know by now, I don't break that easily."

"Is that a challenge?" He smiled knowingly at her.

"You're not in a position to play any more games." She smiled grimly, "You're done. You lost. Game over."

Jackson took a slow, deep breath. He shuddered slightly as pain caressed him. "I'm not that easily broken either," he replied quietly.

She nodded. "Will they really kill you?"

"Who?" he asked ingenuously.

Lisa scoffed, "Ok, fine. I had to try." She turned to go.

"Why?" his voice beckoned her back, "Why do you have to try?"

"Because, obviously, I'm an idiot. I had the stupid idea that there was something human left inside you. Something I thought I saw a couple of times on the plane. But that was just my female driven, emotion based reaction."

Jackson laughed lightly making a soft rasping sound.

"Glad you still find me so amusing."

"You know it's always interesting to me how differently people perceive themselves versus what the reality really is. Certainly makes my job a lot easier though."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

His cold blue eyes had warmed to the color of summer sky, "Nothing. "You should go Leese. Don't come back... It's not safe."

"Thanks to you I'll probably never be safe again," she spat and turned to the door.

"Bye Leese."

She didn't turn back.


	6. Chapter 6

UGH, UGH, UGH, after I posted this I found a big gaping plot hole. No one else seemed to notice but I'm probably the only one reading this lol. Anyway, I couldn't leave it so I have corrected the chapter to account for the fact that Jackson had the cop's revolver.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Jackson closed his eyes again but he was far from sleep. He didn't have much time. Homeland Security was on its way as no doubt his employers were. If he wasn't out of here before they showed up then he wouldn't be getting out of here at all... at least not in an upright position.

Anger boiled up inside him, Lisa Reisert. How could he have misjudged so badly? He was paid to anticipate possibilities. But who could have anticipated such tenacity in a slip of a girl like Lisa? He'd fucked up and now it would cost him his life. But he wouldn't go quietly into that long goodnight. If they wanted him then they were going to have to work for it.

Slowly he sat up, testing his strength. Considering everything he's been through he was surprised he was mobile at all. Still, there was a guard outside the door and he would need more strength than he had to get past him. He looked around the room for possible weapons. Whatever he decided to do he realized he was in no shape for a physical confrontation. It would have to be swift and deadly. The guard couldn't be allowed to get back up. Jackson spotted a couple of possibilities and tottered to his feet.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"No Dad, I'm fine and yes, I know how late it is. I'm on my way home as we speak. I am! I'm headed down to the parking garage right now. I know. I know. I'm going home to get some rest so please don't worry. I'll call you when I wake up. Ok? You try and rest too. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you." Lisa dropped her phone in her bag as the elevator came to a halt and opened to the cavernous parking garage below the hospital. It was open and well lit... and ominous.

Her mind drifted back to another parking garage and she almost bolted back into the elevator. Instead, she pulled out a small can of pepper spray and her keys. She wouldn't be a slave to her past. Not anymore, oddly enough she owed Jackson a thank you for that.

As she walked towards level B she noticed two vans parked side by side in the lot and they weren't empty. Just something about the non-descript blue vans made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She turned abruptly and disappeared behind one of the large concrete pillars that peppered the parking lot. Lisa peeked around the corner watching the vans. There were definitely men inside moving around. Neither van had side windows so it was impossible to see how many or what they were doing. One thing they weren't doing was visiting a sick friend. Lisa's eyes widened, or maybe that's exactly what they were doing.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Jackson leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath. He hefted the bed rail in his hands. This was going to hurt like hell and he wasn't referring to the cop. He'd just had a couple of bullets dug out of his flesh as well as stitches in his neck and leg. Oh yeah, this was going to hurt. He mentally prepared himself for the pain that would follow... and tossed the metal bedpan across the room. It hit the tiled floor with a raucous bang. The door to his room flew open, the cop reaching for his weapon as he stepped inside. Jackson swung the weighted bar at his head catching the cop across the bridge of the nose. He went down hard his head impacting the floor with a smack.

Jackson bent over double, the pain radiating out across his chest like a hot iron. He took a couple of gasping breaths and raised the bar again to finish the job. Blood was already spreading around the cop's head. Jackson's first instinct was to hit him again and make damn sure he wouldn't get back up. But his head was swimming from the pain and in the end he'd accomplished what he needed to. He wasn't going to risk ripping out his stitches. Jackson fell to his knees and started stripping the cop of his uniform. He didn't have much time. Anyone walking by would wonder where his guard went. At this point, all he needed to worry about was getting out of the building. Once away, he could make some plans.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Lisa pulled her cell phone from her purse as she kept an eye on the vans. If they were there to get Jackson, why were they just sitting there? What were they waiting for? She tried to get a look at the plates but the angle was wrong. What if they were government? They could be FBI, Homeland Security, even just undercover cops. But that still wouldn't explain why they were sitting in a parking garage. There was no advantage she could see in their position. It just didn't make sense. Lisa heard the ping of the elevators and maneuvered herself around the pillar so she could see both the bank of elevators and the vans.

A police officer stepped into view. Lisa didn't know rather to be relieved or apprehensive. He would pass right by the vans. The vans with men of questionable intent inside. Oh god. Should she call out to him and warn him? Cops were trained to notice things and if she noticed the vans, he would too. A cop was trained to handle whatever situation he encountered. Though she wasn't sure anyone would be ready to handle someone like Jackson... or a van full of Jacksons.

Lisa took a good look at the cop and noticed that he was moving slowly, favoring his right leg. He had one arm pressed tightly to his chest, the other he held near the gun holstered on his belt. He was walking like he was in pain. Something about him... the man scanned the garage as he walked. If he hadn't been a police officer his actions might even be considered suspicious. He turned his head in her direction and Lisa gasped barely containing a yelp.

_Jackson_.

Oh god, this couldn't happening. It couldn't. How could he possibly have escaped? He was wearing a cop's uniform. The how was obvious. Lisa prayed the cop was still alive though she didn't hold out much hope. Lisa pushed back against the pillar as far as she could go and dialed 911. She wasn't about to let the killer just stroll out of the hospital. He wasn't going to get away, not after everything that had happened. The call dropped. Lisa just stared at her traitorous phone.

No! She tried again with the same results. Her position was surrounded by tons of concrete. The signal was just not getting out. What was she going to do now?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"What took you so long, Jackson? We've been waiting down here since we heard you got out of surgery. We knew if anyone could escape it would be you." Four men stepped into the open, fanning out around Jackson in a circle. "You must have been in pretty bad shape after all."

Jackson started slightly but covered it well. He'd walked straight into a trap. He wanted to blame the fact that he was injured and on enough meds to put a horse to sleep but maybe it was time to retire. He inwardly scoffed, as if he would get the chance. He hoped he wouldn't pass out, that would just be plain embarrassing.

"Victor. Yeah, well. What's a couple of bullets huh?" He assessed his chances of using the revolver. They all had weapons on display though they hadn't drawn them as of yet. They were spaced out in a circle around him which meant he would have to duck, roll, and fire. He wasn't that good a shot even when not wounded. He might get two of them before they could take him out but the odds weren't in his favor.

"You really don't look so good. Maybe I should hold that revolver for you." Victor stepped forward and held out his hand.

Jackson smirked, "You intend to disarm me?"

Victor held up his hands in placation. "Jackson, my friend, I'm only here to take you to Renauld. I have my orders but I see no need to be unpleasant. Just drop the belt."

Jackson looked around the circle. This just wasn't his week. Ever since the red eye to Miami his luck had been in the shitter. As much as his head screamed to him not to leave himself helpless if Renauld had just wanted him dead he'd already be dead. Whatever the plan they wouldn't kill him yet. He still had time to find a way out. He reached slowly for the buckle with his left hand and let the belt slide down his hips.

The man chuckled unpleasantly. "We should get going before they miss you." He motioned towards a blue van. "Let's get outta here."

Jackson began walking as instructed, he gauged his chances of flight. He'd had three surgeries in three days to sew up all the damage, there was no way he was going anywhere except where they told him to. "That's not necessary, I can.."

A short scream stopped all conversation.

Lisa hadn't even seen the man come up behind her before he had grabbed her. She turned and clawed at his face but the goon only lifted her off her feet and carried her kicking and screaming into the open.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Miss Reisert isn't it?" He looked her up and down as she dangled uncomfortably from the goon's arms. "So this is the little slip of a girl that took-out one of our best and brightest?" The men around them chuckled in appreciation at the joke.

Jackson frowned, he hadn't intended on getting the girl involved any further. He was still really pissed but at this point there was little satisfaction in her further pain. He had never been a sadist. He knew what was in store for himself but if they thought they had leverage in her then she was in for just as nasty a ride as he was. "She's nothing. I had an off day. Could happen to anyone. Just put a bullet in her and be done with it."

"Off day? You bastard." Lisa mouthed off, "You just don't know how to handle a woman." More chuckles echoed in the basement garage. It was just the tiny distraction she needed.

Lisa drove the spiked heel of her shoe into the goon's foot and he yelled, dropping her like she was on fire. Once both feet were firmly back on the ground Lisa made a move to run but before she got the chance another goon grabbed her arm and backhanded her across the face. She dropped like a stone and lay still.

Jackson's eyebrows shot up at the woman's audacity. He couldn't help a small smile. Damn, she just didn't know when to quit. He wondered if she had always been that way or rather it was a recent personality trait attributed to the assault she suffered. Didn't really matter, in this situation it was only likely to get her killed quicker. "Feisty, isn't she?" he commented lightly.

"Get in the van." Victor looked over at his compatriot who was still cradling his damaged foot and said disgustedly, "Grab the girl. Let's get out of here before we attract attention." The goon hobbled over and scooped her up none too gently.

Damn it, they were going to take her anyway. She had no one to blame but herself. With each action she had drawn herself deeper and deeper into his world. There wouldn't be any escape, not this time. Jackson reasoned, it wasn't like he had really become attached to her. Sure, he was attracted to her but she was a mark just like all the rest. It was always a bad idea to indulge yourself with someone you might have to put a bullet in later. Too messy. The fact that he liked and even admired her was not relevant. He would do what was necessary.. just like he always did.

Maybe he would still be able to talk his way out of a death sentence. There had to be something he could offer. If that meant sacrificing Lisa Reisert and her father, so be it. She certainly wouldn't be the first innocent he had killed.. and probably not the last. It wouldn't be a problem at all. Not at all.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

The van bounced along, jarring his wounds with each pothole. The back of the vehicle was open space with a seating bench on either side. There was nothing to cushion the impacts. Jackson gritted his teeth. The meds were starting to wear off. His mind felt infinitely sharper than it had before but now every movement was excruciating. It was a fair enough trade in his opinion. Brute force would only take you so far, its why he was a "manager" and these cretins were nothing more than triggers. Though in this case, he would trade an IQ point for one of their weapons.

Although he couldn't really see where they were going they had been going at a steady pace for some time without stopping. They were on a freeway. It had been around midnight when he had made his escape. He estimated that they had been on the move for a couple of hours at least. They wouldn't risk speeding so it was unlikely that they had traveled more than about a hundred miles. He would have to get his bearings quickly once he was freed from the van.

He looked down at Lisa who was lying on her side at his feet. Her eyes were closed but he knew that she had regained consciousness a good ten minutes ago. If he knew anything about the young woman, and he thought he did, then she was already plotting her escape. Not that it would do her much good but it might do him some good. If she created any of the same chaos here as she had on the plane or at her house then it would be more than enough distraction for him to flee. He'd escape and they'd put a bullet in the troublesome bitch. At least one problem solved.

A sharp pain cut into his chest and he gasped lightly. One well placed hit and he would go down like a lead weight. He needed to hole-up somewhere and heal for at least a week but that wouldn't happen any time soon, he figured. Casually, he glanced down and nudged the girl with his foot. She didn't respond. He looked up at the two men seated up front. Ricky, the one in the passenger seat, kept glancing back at them, his hand in his lap. Jackson could just make out the handle of a gun.

He nudged Lisa again and whispered lightly, "I know you're awake. And those men up front won't buy your act much longer either." He waited until Ricky looked away again then continued, "There's nothing in the van that can be used as a weapon. Both the men in the front are armed. Neither of us stands a chance in hell of escaping but if you feel the need to make a suicidal attempt, I'd be happy to cheer you on. And by the way, they took your shoes too." Despite her stubborn insistence to play possum the woman couldn't help but scowl. Jackson would have found it funny if not for their very dire circumstances."Maybe one of them will loan you a pen."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Lisa scowled, she'd rather chew glass than respond to the arrogant assassin but the man had a point. They both were in deep trouble. As much as she blamed him for everything, it wasn't going to help her in this situation. She could only assume that they were being taken to die and logically they stood a better chance of surviving together than apart. God, she couldn't believe what she was about to do.

"Instead of making snarky comments how about you come up with a way out of this mess," she whispered back.

Jackson waited then whispered, "I might have been able to do just that, if someone hadn't stabbed and then shot me. Without a weapon, I'm about as useless as you are right now."

Lisa's face flushed red. Son of a bitch. God, he made her blood boil.

"Uh oh," Jackson commented casually.

Lisa was hauled to her feet and tossed back against the bench opposite Jackson's. The air was knocked from her lungs in a rush. Her head bounced off metal and someone leaned in close. "You behave yourself little girl."

She looked up into the piggy eyes of one of her captors. "Ever heard of Listerine?" Lisa fanned her hand in front of her face. Ricky smiled unpleasantly and pulled back his hand to strike.

"Ricky!" The driver, Victor, leaned over the seat, "Get your ass up here. Now!" He had his gun out and was looking from his man back to Jackson then back to the road. He seemed nervous, Lisa noted. The man was watching Jackson like a hawk. That was interesting and more than a little disturbing. Lisa figured there were few things that could unsettle thugs like these yet Jackson seemed to be doing just that. The man wouldn't meet the assassin's glacial blue stare. His cocky attitude, in evidence back in the parking garage when it had been four against one, was gone.

"What?" Ricky turned to Jackson. "You think I'm afraid of him?" He pulled his gun from the waistband of his jeans, gesturing, "He's nothing but teacher's pet. Probably never even got his hands dirty."

Jackson cocked his head and continued to stare at the posturing fool, his expression never wavered even when the man pointed the gun in his face. Lisa gasped. Was he going to kill Jackson right there? Why didn't Jackson seemed more worried about it? Talk about ice water in your veins, Lisa marveled.

"Jesus Christ Ricky, are you out of your mind! Think about what you're doing! Get your ass up here."

Ricky looked from Victor back to Jackson. No one could match that stare for long. He wagged the weapon in Jackson's face. "All I need is the word. That's all I need."

Jackson tilted his head the other way, his expression suddenly disgusted, "And who do you think gives the word you stupid shit?"

Ricky turned back to Victor then tucked the gun back in his belt and sat down.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Agent Thomas paced back and forth. He should have known better. He should have known better than to leave one beat cop to stand guard. He believed Lisa when she told him that they weren't dealing with some ordinary thug. Badly injured or not, they should have taken added precautions. Now a cop was fighting for his life and an assassin was free... with a hostage.

When Lisa turned up missing, Thomas didn't for one minute consider anything else. Her car was still in the parking garage but her father got a call saying that she was headed home around midnight. She never made it. That meant that Rippner had a two hour head start. More than likely, Lisa Reisert was already dead. Her body would turn up beside a road somewhere tomorrow and then he would have to tell her father that his only daughter was gone. She was dead and the assassin responsible was on the loose. Thomas frowned. And he felt guilty that he was concerned about losing his job when the courageous young woman had probably lost her life.

"Agent Thomas?"

"I'm Thomas."

"I'm Agent Farrell, Homeland Security." The suited man flashed a badge. "I understand we had an _incident _a couple of hours ago."

Thomas snorted. "That's a polite way of saying major fuck-up. My suspect is in the wind." Thomas ran his hand over his face, "I suppose you're here to take over?"

"I'm here on behalf of Director Keefe who asked me to convey to you his complete confidence in the FBI and their ability to take the lead in this investigation."

"Excuse me?"

"Homeland Security has decided to act in a secondary role in this situation."

"And why is that exactly?"

"I'm not at liberty to go into further detail. Of course, if you need anything," Farrell reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, "You can get a hold me at this number. We will, of course, offer any assistance you require at any stage of this investigation."

Thomas's eyes narrowed. Something didn't smell right. "I know the press will try and eat us alive over Rippner's escape but Keefe is one of your own. I would have thought you guys would want the pleasure of bringing him down. What's with the suddenly shy act?"

Farrell smiled a patently false smile, "You have my number, Agent Thomas." He then turned and walked out the door without another word.

"What the hell?" Thomas stared after him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The atmosphere in the van was still charged but the ride was again quiet. Lisa was trying to digest all she heard and put the pieces together. Jackson was right. They didn't have the might to overcome these guys, not with Jackson injured. They would have to use their heads and watch for opportunities.

Lisa looked over at Jackson. His face was placid but his eyes were stormy. He still held his arm pressed against his chest. He must be past due for meds by now she considered, which meant the wounds were probably hurting like a bitch. She still couldn't believe she was the one responsible for all his horrible injuries. She wasn't sure whether she was proud or ashamed. Jackson must be incensed. He had to be. What made her think for one minute that she would be better off siding with him than on her own?

She glanced up front at the other two men. What was it they said? Better the devil you know.. Lisa had never thought about that quote until now. But she was quickly realizing it made a lot of sense. She wasn't sure that Jackson Rippner was the lesser of two evils but if these were the men that taught him to be what he was... in her book, that meant they had to be worse than him. As much as she didn't want to be anywhere near the "manager" cum assassin. It seemed like fate had other plans.

"How much longer?" Lisa rubbed at the back of her head. She had quite a goose egg where she had impacted the side of the van. Lisa propped her elbows on her thighs and rested her head in her hands.

Jackson raised an eyebrow, "Did getting whacked on the head cause brain damage or have you always been stupid?"

Lisa kept her head down as it throbbed in time with her heart. "Says the assassin that chased me back to my own house.."

Jackson's expression hardened. "You sure you want to push my buttons right now?"

"I can't push you.. _Jack_. Male driven fact based logic remember? Besides, you can barely walk. I'd kick your ass.. again."

"The only reason you kicked my ass is because you stabbed me in the throat. Tends to slow you down a bit."

"Keep telling yourself that if you need to."

"You are insufferable," Jackson fumed. "They're going to take you apart piece by piece and no amount of smartass commentary is going to distract them."

"I distracted _you_."

Jackson took a slow breath and sighed, "Yeah, you did."

Lisa raised her head to look at him. That wasn't what she had expected. She had expected another insult, another cutting remark meant to wound. Not a simple statement of honesty. And it wasn't the first time either. During the ordeal on the plane there had been a few of those moments as well. When she looked back on the events and tried to make sense of it, all those moments of his seeming (compassion?) made less and less sense. This was a man that masterminded murder for a living.

He was arrogant, vicious, deadly, and she wasn't willing to accept that there could be any more to him than that. If she allowed for even the smallest humanity in him then she might hesitate at a moment when it could mean life or death, _her_ life or death. She steeled herself. Jackson Rippner was nothing more than a professional killer without conscience or remorse. Another garden variety sociopath.. only with specialized training courtesy of some shadow organization. Oh yeah, there was a helluva lot more to this story. She wondered how much she'd learn before they finished the job that Jack had started.

"Keep quiet."

Lisa swallowed hard, it was now or never, "Or what? You'll kill me?"

Jackson hid a small smile. Lisa was working up to some ill advised attempt at escape. She was using the same tactic against them that she had with him. She was playing on their emotion control. Trying to get them to make a mistake so she could use it to her advantage. She was raw and foolish but he had to grudgingly admit she had potential.

Jackson watched and waited.

"If I'm going to die I don't see any reason why I can't say whatever I want to say. And I have to say that was _really_ stupid. You guys call yourselves professional killers? Do you really think that Jackson just strolled out of that hospital... all on his own?"

Jackson's eyes narrowed, what the hell was she on about?

Lisa ignored the look and continued, "I mean seriously, look at him. He can barely move but he somehow managed to jump a cop and escape? And you guys bought that?"

Ricky was now looking back and forth between the driver and Jackson. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The FBI knew Jackson would never talk but they needed information on who he was working for. Come on! Haven't you figured it out yet? They let him escape. They let him escape so that you would lead them right back... home." She laughed lightly, "And you guys fell for it. There's probably a team of agents on our tail right now."

He had to give her credit, she could certainly think on her feet, Jackson thought but then again he already learned that the hard way. He glanced to the gun Ricky had tucked in his waistband. He might not be able to take out four men circling him but two in close quarters wouldn't be a problem.

Victor was now looking out the side window into the mirror. "She's full of shit."

Ricky swung around, "I don't know. It makes sense. How else could he have taken out a cop and gotten out of the hospital? Look how messed up he is."

"Because he's good, that's how. Just sit there and shut up. She's running a number on us."

Jackson smiled as he spoke, his voice as smooth as ice, "And if she isn't, you're leading them right back to Renauld. I'm sure he won't mind. He's a very forgiving sort of fellow."

Ricky paled, "Maybe you should pull off somewhere and call him?"

Victor motioned back at Jackson, "I want him off my hands, the sooner the better."

Lisa had been right. Victor was afraid of Jackson. She wasn't sure she wanted to know why but there had to be a way to use it to her advantage. "I guess you guys need to decide who you're more afraid of, Jackson or this guy Renauld." She shrugged and looked over to Jackson.

He reminded her of a cat. He was sitting motionless but his eyes were following every detail. She suddenly got the impression that he was building to an attempt of his own. Her mind snapped in place. He was using her actions for his own ends. Of course, he was. He might play along if it suited him but he was just as likely to kill their captors and then her.

"I think we should call him," Ricky started fumbling for his cell phone. It was jammed tightly into his front pocket. When stretching his leg in his seat didn't work, he stood in a crouched position to get at it. The van rocked slightly and he took a step back to steady his stance... and took his eyes off Jackson.

"Ricky, just sit down before..."

Jackson moved pretty fast for a wounded man. Lisa gasped as he dove towards Ricky grabbing for the gun and wrenching it from the man's jeans, his finger squeezing the trigger before the weapon was even completely free. He fired three times in rapid succession, the bullets fairly exploding into the man's lower abdomen and groin. The sound was horrifically loud in the enclosed metal tincan and Lisa cringed, her hands over her ears. Unfortunately, it didn't really conceal the sound of Ricky's scream of pain as his guts were blown apart.

Jackson used his shoulder to shove into the dying man, pushing him forward where Victor had already pulled his weapon out and was attempting to find a target. The van started rocking dangerously from side to side as the driver paid more attention to what was going on inside rather than outside. There was the sound of a car horn and squealing tires as they veered wildly back and forth.

Ricky's dead weight came crashing down on Victor and the vehicle wrenched hard right throwing both Lisa and Jackson into the side of the van. Tires left pavement and the last sound Lisa Reisert heard was glass breaking.


	8. Chapter 8

Lisa awoke with a gasp. The van was silent and dark. She hurt. Every part of her body felt like it was bruised. Raising her head slowly, she looked around. There were two men in a pile in the front seats and the back doors were open. Jackson was gone. No! No, he couldn't be allowed to get away! She wouldn't allow it. She glanced up to the front of the van. Victor's body was slumped over the wheel his neck bent at an unnatural angle. Jackson was two for two.

She stumbled out the back of the van and landed with a plop in the dirt. They had veered off the highway down a grassy embankment. They wouldn't be easy to spot from the road and at night it would be impossible. She would need to get back up to the road to get help.

Something shiny in the grass glinted at her in the dim moonlight. She reached over and grabbed the pair of handcuffs. The cop's utility belt must be around somewhere but she didn't have time to look for it. Victor had taken the weapon anyway. She pulled herself unsteadily to her feet and looked around. Jackson was out here somewhere. She was far from safe. If she knew what was good for her she would hide under the van until someone came to help. But if she did that, then Jackson would escape... and someone might pay for that escape with their lives. She'd come too far to let this happen.

Lisa rounded the side of the van nearest the highway only to find herself thrown against the side panel, the air knocked from her lungs in a rush.

"You should have stayed in the van, Leese." Jackson's arm pressed against her throat effectively keeping her in place. The light from the moon hit his pale blue eyes and they seemed to glow. "You would have been safer."

"I won't be safe until you're locked up," she managed to croak out.

"Sorry, to disappoint but that's not going to happen." Jackson grinned, "I'm feeling a distinct déjà vu here, are you?"

Lisa twisted around attempting to slam him in the chest with her elbow but he had his free arm across his chest, protecting his wounds. "Now, now," he chided as if she were a child. He leaned into her using his weight and cutting off her air supply. Her eyes widened. He was going to kill her... or at the least, render her unconscious. She flashed to the lavatory on the plane. There was no one here that could help her, no one that could stop him from finishing the job. Her vision darkened and her thoughts slowed down, she was going to die... like hell.

She writhed and struggled but she couldn't get leverage to kick him in the groin, his leg was pressed between hers. His leg. Lisa drove her knee up into his thigh. In ordinary circumstances a kick in the thigh, while painful, probably wouldn't have been enough to divert the assassin from his actions but having a hole the size of a stiletto heel in your leg changed the dynamic.

His grip relaxed as he bent forward to grasp at his leg. "Son of a bitch!" he growled.

She attempted to dive to the right, out of his reach, but he grabbed her by the arm before she could take more than a step. What she was thinking or why she would do such an insane thing she might never figure out but as he raised his fist to strike... she clamped down on the other arm locking the cuff into place at the wrist.

"What the fuck!" Jackson jerked back and she pressed the cuff into place around her own wrist... and found herself nose to nose with stormy glacial eyes. The assassin wretched her arm up, eyeballing the cuffs incredulously. "Are you out of your mind!"

"Look who's talking!" she retorted.

"Where is the key!" he shouted in her face.

She stared back at him stubbornly and didn't answer.

Stepping back, he brought his hand back and slapped her none too gently. "I won't ask you again Lisa. Where.. is.. the .. key? Now!"

"I don't know," she shouted back.

He shoved her back against the van and started pawing at her clothes.

Lisa grabbed at his hands, "Stop it! What are you doing? I don't have the key!"

"Where is it!"

"I don't have it! The cuffs were on the ground! The belt must have been thrown from the van."

Jackson went instantly still. His voice was suddenly soft and it chilled her to the bone. "You mean to say that you locked us together in cuffs knowing that you didn't have a key?"

Lisa opened her mouth once and then closed it with an audible click. What could she say that would make a difference at this point? That's exactly what she had done and now she would have to pay the consequences. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

Jackson looked absolutely livid. His hands had curled into fists and it looked as if he was contemplating the best way to cook her entrails. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His expression softened slightly but when he opened his eyes it was clear where his mindset was. "Come on," he ordered and yanked her forward.

Lisa dug in her heels, pulling back against the cuff. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

Jackson whirled on her using their tether to spin her around. She crashed face first into the side of the van her arm painfully twisted up behind her back. "You had better listen to me because I'm only going to say this once. You have no one to blame but yourself for this situation. My first instinct now is to find something to cut your hand off and leave you to bleed to death but frankly I don't have the time or the energy."

Lisa's eyes had gone wide.

"You ARE going to come with me. And you will be co-operative because if you don't, I won't hesitate to carry out my threat." Jackson spun her back around, "Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Jackson made a quick pass of the crash site managing to find not only a gun but a cell phone. He rummaged through Victor's pockets much to Lisa's disgust and came up with a wad of cash as well. They would need to get as far away from the wreck as possible before it was discovered. As it stood now there was nothing to connect him to the crash. It would be just another unfortunate accident. But once the coroner got a look at old Ricky and his bullet wounds it wouldn't take the FBI long to investigate.

He glared over his shoulder at the diminutive woman who was trying to look nonchalant as she looked for anything to bash him over the head with. Jackson wasn't sure if he wanted to kill her or kiss her. No, he was sure he wanted to kill her. She'd pretty much ruined his life. The other, well, he'd already decided that was complete insanity on his part. He knew that he tended towards obsessive behavior, it was a trait that actually helped in his line of work but this _fascination_ with Lisa Reisert was fast starting to really concern him.

"Don't even think about it," he rumbled.

"What?" Lisa looked at him in all innocence as if she hadn't just been contemplating the best way to brain him.

He pulled the 9MM from his waistband. "I may not have anything to cut you from the cuffs but this..," he put the weapon under her nose, "Will do the job just as well."

"You don't need to threaten me. I'm co-operating."

Jackson rolled his eyes. "Maybe you forgot but those two morons weren't the only ones involved in our little impromptu trip. The others are probably close by, a lot closer than any authorities coming to the rescue. We need to get away from here. They will hunt us down. And believe me when I tell you... you're in as much trouble as I am at the moment."

Great, just great, Lisa considered. Jackson was right. The authorities had no idea where they were but Jackson's associates certainly did. Trying to incapacitate the assassin while she was still cuffed to him would leave them vulnerable to whoever happened along. She needed to get to somewhere where there were people... and police. She nodded, "Fine. I believe you. Let's get out of here."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"So, high profile assassinations. How does that work exactly?" Lisa puffed. They had been walking a good hour on uneven terrain, Jackson not willing to stay close to the road. She was already tired and quite sore from the accident, not to mention Jackson's rough treatment.

Jackson scoffed, "It's not like you really want to know."

"Yes, I do." Oddly enough, she did mean it. She didn't want to be intrigued by this monster of a man but she had never met anyone like him in her normally sedate life. It was hard not to be curious.

"All you want is something to use against me later. You still think that you can get out of this," he responded patronizingly. "I wish I had your optimism but it's not going to happen. We're both dead." Jackson stumbled slightly.

Lisa had noted that they were gradually slowing down. The man's injuries had to be catching up to him. It was amazing that he had managed this far. It was only a matter of time. She just needed an opportunity. "What kind of assassin are you? You just give up the first time things don't go your way?"

Jackson shook his head, "If they don't kill you... I swear to God, I'll do it myself."

"I thought you left that task to the dogs?"

Jackson stopped up short, his face covered in a light sheen. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"I told you. I want to know what a _manager_ does for *Murder Inc*."

Jackson sighed in resignation. "It's not mur.. Fine, whatever. If you must know.." Jackson pulled her over to the nearest large tree and leaned back against it. "Clients put in a request for certain projects that they need someone to facilitate. I put together a plan, hire the proper employees, and manage the situation to its conclusion. That's it," he explained with exhaustion in his voice.

Lisa appeared to be digesting this information before she responded, "So you mastermind murders for a living. That's quite a talent you have. You must make your parents proud. Oh, I forgot, you killed your parents." Lisa looked him up and down. "How many _projects_ have you "managed" anyway? Twenty? Fifty? Hundreds?"

Jackson slowly straightened. His arm crossed protectively across his chest. "I'm not going to tell you this again. Injured or not, if you don't shut your fucking mouth, I will kill you. Are we clear?"

Lisa backed away from him until the cuff pulled her taut. "Does it make it easier to think of them as "projects" instead of people? Have you ever had to look any of your victims in the eyes when you _completed_ your project?"

Jackson took a step toward her, "Actually, I have."

She noted with some disquiet that his fists were clenched. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to poke the killer especially when he was injured and tired, but thinking about what he did to people and his cavalier attitude about his "job" made her just as angry as he was. "You're nothing but a monster."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

She shook her head disgusted. "Tell me, what was it? What happened to you? Or were you just born with a defective soul?"

Jackson rolled his eyes, "Typical female rhetoric. Nothing can be simple and straight forward. No, there has to be some kind of turmoil. Some things just are what they are. It doesn't matter how they got that way. Deal with it."

Lisa bristled at his arrogance. "The question is how are you going to deal with it, _Jack_? What do you do now? Your people want you dead and I'm guessing you don't have a lot of friends in your line of work."

"You would make that assumption wouldn't you," he offered smugly.

Lisa raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you have someone you can trust, now might be a good time to call in a favor or two because honestly I think your "friends" are going to kill us both."

"And whose fault is that?"

Lisa looked at him incredulously. "You can't be serious! You're not trying to lay the blame for this situation on me?"

"If you had just done as you were told, Keefe would be dead and we wouldn't be in this predicament."

Her anger was making her reckless and she shouted back, "No, you're right _we_ wouldn't. I'd be dead! And so would my father, you cold hearted bastard! You never had any intention of letting us go. So instead of five people dead there would be seven and you'd be sipping Mai-Tai's on some beach. That about right?"

Jackson gave the cuffs a hard yank and she gasped in pain, "The important part of that statement being that I was sipping Mai-Tai's on the beach rather than being on the run from the authorities and my own people."

Lisa yanked back on the cuffs hurting her own wrist as much as his, "You are absolutely unbelievable! You really have the nerve to blame me for your choices. I'm starting to question your grasp on reality, _Jack_."

"My.. name.. is.. Jackson," his smooth voice could cut glass. "If you call me Jack one more time it will be your last."

"Well, _Jackson_.. what the hell are we going to do now? What's your grand plan this time?"

"We?"

She was beginning to wonder what the hell was wrong with her. Did she have a sign around her neck that said she was attackable? Why had she attracted such dangerous men? Was there something about her? Logically, she knew that the two incidents weren't related. And whatever he was, Jackson Rippner was a professional. He had a job and she was the most expedient way to accomplish his goal. Never mind, that he had terrorized her for most of the night. In the end, she had come out stronger for it. But now she found herself dragged right back into his dangerous world but this time she had a sense that she was in far greater danger than she had ever been in Jackson's hands.

"Yes, we, as in you and I."

Jackson cocked his head and stared at her like she had grown a third eye. "You've been trying to get rid of me since our little trip to Miami. Why are you suddenly so keen for my company?" He smiled smugly, "Couldn't be that you finally got it through that little head of yours that you're in deep shit could it?"

"You want to hear me say I'm afraid? I am, all right. I am. Of you, of them, of what will happen to my father. And I'm angry. Angry, that I was dragged into this horror show you call a life. But right now, I have to concentrate on staying alive and if that means I have to deal with you, then that's what I'm going to do."

Jackson smirked, "You misunderstand me. I'm not asking why you want to stay with me. I already know that. I'm asking why I should allow you to."

"What?"

"I'll speak slower for you darling, I'm a professional and you're extra baggage. You're emotional, unpredictable, and stubborn. You're going to get us killed."

"And you're an arrogant, ruthless murderer who's going to get us killed. I think that's makes us even.. don't you. And if I'm so much baggage then why don't you just let me go."

Jackson gave a tug on the cuffs pulling her forward until they were face to face. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't break your neck and then just cut you from the cuffs." Lisa eyes widened and she tried to step away only to have him drag her back until they were pressed close.

"I asked you a question," his voice deadly calm.

"You need me." Lisa was quickly realizing that it wasn't when Jackson was ranting that she needed to be concerned. It was when he was quiet... and cold. She really should have kept her mouth shut.

Jackson's eyebrows shot up, "Is that so?"

She nodded hurriedly.

"For what, pray tell," he inquired smoothly.

"I'm your hostage."

Jackson smirked. She wanted to slap the expression off his face.

"My group doesn't care if I kill you or not. I think they've made that abundantly clear. As for law enforcement, you're more trouble than you're worth as a hostage. I can get a lot further without you as an anchor around my neck.." he brought their cuffed hands up.. "or wrist."

His expression hardened, "Last chance, give me a reason why you should live."

She stared into his glacial blue eyes. They were so fathomless you could drown in them. She shivered. "How about the simple fact that I don't want to die."

She took a deep shuddering breath and refused to cry. She had already shed far too many tears for this man. "But I don't suppose anything I say will sway you one way or the other. If you want to kill me, you _will_ kill me, and there won't be a damn thing I can do about it."

She tried to shrug casually but it felt more like cringing. "So I don't see why I should be anything other than who I am to try and pacify your temper." She squared her shoulders, "Deal with it."

Jackson looked back at her with the same inscrutable and bemused expression that he had had when they first started their battle of wills on that faithful Red Eye flight to Miami. Then he did something that both shocked and confused her.

He laughed.

"So does that mean you're not going to kill me?"

"For the moment." He started off in the direction of the road only to be stopped up short when Lisa didn't follow along. His eyes questioned. "Now what?"

"I can't function if I don't know from moment to moment when you're going to strike. I want some assurances that I have a chance to come out of this alive." His expression instantly darkened. It was true, sometimes, she just didn't know when was enough. "I mean.. you need me to keep up.. and.."

"Let me make something very clear for you, Leese. You have no choice, period. This isn't going to be a repeat of our little plane ride together. There aren't any witnesses around here. Nothing to keep me from being.. less than a gentleman."

"I can't hurt you. Why don't you just let me go? We can find a way to get out of the cuffs.."

He snarled, "You fucking, ruined, my life! I'm not about to forget that anytime soon. So the less you annoy me.. the longer you'll last." "If you choose not to cooperate.." he offered smugly, "Use your imagination."

"Fine. Fine! I said I'd cooperate."

He looked at her suspiciously. "The last time you so quickly acquiesced, you stabbed me in the neck with a pen."

She stood her ground and looked into those drowning pools, "I don't have a pen."


	9. Chapter 9

I don't normally like to upload such short chapters but I'm not sure how happy I am with this. I'm normally a strict character writer, meaning you can put the characters in any situation you like but you have to make them stay true to themselves. But obviously, for Lisa and Jackson to have even a semi equal relationship then they both have to change a bit. Jackson, more so than Lisa,(IMHO)is harder to change and yet keep him true. Sooo, I thought, ok so maybe, he has a biting sense of humor and that allows you to see something more going on.. I don't know. Don't be surprised if this chapter gets revised. *head meet desk*

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was becoming quite obvious as they trudged towards the narrow dirt road that Jackson was in pain. His gait had become slow and uneven. His already fair pallor drained to pale. She wasn't concerned about his welfare, Lisa reassured herself. It was entirely self-serving. If Jackson collapsed in the middle of nowhere it could be days before anyone found them. And that was if they were lucky enough that the "anyone" that found them wasn't there to kill them. "Maybe we should rest?" Lisa offered.

"The sun's coming up. We have to find shelter before anyone sees us," he responded tonelessly.

"We're in the middle of nowhere. I'm not sure there's any place to go."

Either he hadn't heard her or he was too tired to respond. Lisa stepped up next to him and took his arm, "Hey, hey. Listen. You need to rest." She glanced down at the dark blue shirt of the cop's uniform and noticed a darker spot spread across his chest. "Jackson, are you bleeding?"

He snorted softly, "What do you care? Not like you're not hoping that I bleed out and save you the trouble of bashing my head in."

"Don't be an ass. If you bleed out, I won't get the pleasure of bashing you in the head." The comment induced a small quirk of his lush lips. "Look, I get that you're the indestructible terminator but I'm not. I'm tired and thirsty. I hurt all over. Can't we just rest for awhile? Please. Come on, you've been running on sheer adrenaline for hours. You're going to bottom out."

The truth was and she sure as hell didn't want to admit it, she was more than a little worried about the assassin's physical state. It had only been a few days since the doctors had dug a couple of slugs from his chest. Now it appeared that at least one of the wounds was open again. That couldn't be good. But it was good... wasn't it? In the end, he was just getting what he deserved, she reminded herself. Compassion was the enemy, this was about survival.

"I can make it a bit further." He looked into Lisa's eyes. "We have to find shelter. Do you understand? There's no choice. I know these people."

Something about the lack of arrogant assurance on his face brought back to her the overwhelming danger of their situation. "You could try the phone again. I mean there's a dirt road. It has to lead somewhere. Maybe there's a signal now." Lisa felt a small tremor run through Jackson's arm to hers. He swayed slightly on his feet.

"I know I'm going to regret this," she mumbled as she came up close next to the killer. "Here," she wrapped her arm around his, "Lean into me."

Jackson pulled himself fully upright and looked down his nose at her, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I'll take some of your weight. Don't be stubborn about it. This is survival right? You do... what you gotta do."

He studied her speculatively. "You know, you might actually make a decent assassin."

It was Lisa's turn to be surprised. She stumbled over a response to the odd comment. "What?" Maybe he was becoming delirious. "I suppose you think that's some sort of compliment."

He turned his head slightly away and smiled, "You didn't let me finish. You might make a decent assassin... if not for the handicap of being a woman. It's nothing to be ashamed of you realize. It's simple genetics."

Lisa stepped back as far as the cuffs would allow. "Of all the ridiculous statements," she sputtered. "You, you, have to be the most infuriating man I've ever had the misfortune to know! You're unbelievable. What century do you think this is? And I'll have you know I would make a damn good assassin!"

Jackson was shaking slightly and Lisa thought he might actually fall over until she realized what she'd just said. "Oh, you think that's funny do you? We're being hunted like animals, but hey, feel free to joke!"

His laughter was as smooth as his voice. "I bet you'd like to storm off in a huff about now," he paused to catch his breath, "But there is the matter of you cuffing us together... when you didn't have a key. But that's not a reflection on you being female. Just stupid."

Lisa's mouth dropped open. "I hate you," she breathed.

That only made the assassin laugh harder. He pressed his arm tight to his chest.

"If I had any doubts before about your mental state. I'm sure now!" she ranted. "You've lost your mind!"

Jackson put his hand up. "Enough, enough," he dragged in a harsh breath. "Any more pain and I'm going to pass out on you." He shook his head, his trademark smirk in place. "Which won't do either of us any good. I accept your offer of help."

Lisa crossed her arms over her chest. "You can't be serious. You think I would help you now?"

Jackson shrugged slightly, "Well, we could always die in some horrible manner so you could prove a point but I was under the impression that you wanted to live through this encounter." He took a small step, rocking on his feet. "Like you said, whatever it takes."

Another ten minutes of walking and Lisa knew that Jackson wasn't going to make it much further. He seemed barely conscious. Not only was there a stain on his chest but another had begun to spread on his leg. She pulled his arm over her shoulder. He cringed in pain but didn't make a sound. She didn't know if she should be impressed or concerned. She re-secured her hold. The man was thin, but must be all muscle, she mused because he was heavier than he looked.

"Jackson. Jackson, look!" She pointed ahead. It looked like some kind of old farming structure. The building was long with wooden slats in sections along the sides. It was probably for cattle. She only hoped it hadn't been some sort of slaughter house.

Jackson didn't raise his head but peered from behind the damp hair that had fallen in his eyes. "Seems deserted but we need to be careful. Looks can be deceiving," he rasped. Even the wound in his throat seemed to be plaguing him now.

"Believe me, you don't have to tell me that," she reminded him. "Come on, we need to get you inside."

The last few steps were a series of lurches until they finally reached the entrance and tumbled inside. The building was empty except for some boxes here and there and a bit of tack. "Here," she led him over to a large pile of straw that seemed clean and fresh. They both collapsed into a gangly heap when the last of Jackson's strength seemed to give out.

"We'll just rest for a few minutes. Just a few, then I'll try..." Jackson's voice trailed off and his eyes closed.

Lisa lay still next to him, her mind working at high speed. Jackson was out. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. But how to take advantage of it? She was still cuffed to him so she wasn't going anywhere. She could shout at the top of her lungs and hope there was someone around. But not only didn't that seem likely but it would mostly assuredly get her a clout in the jaw from Jackson. Or maybe another headbutt, she thought grimly and looked over to her, once again, captor.

Or worse it might alert any pursuers.

He looked different now, of course. His piercing eyes closed and his face slack with exhaustion. Vulnerable, like he had when he lay on the floor of her father's house bleeding from the same multiple wounds that now threatened yet again to kill him. The wounds she herself had caused. And again she couldn't help but think that this wasn't just a monster, it was a man. Dangerous thinking, she reminded herself and slid closer.

Observing his face close up Lisa noted the slight flush of his cheeks. Fever, she speculated. His breath in sleep should be slow and deep but instead hitched every third or fourth exhalation. He was in pain. Again, she marveled at the tenacity of the man to keep going despite his injuries. A lesser man would have given up long ago. She supposed it was why he continued to survive in his chosen profession. At least until now.

Lisa looked him over. The gun was wedged into his waistband at his back so he was now uncomfortably laying on it. Not that the gun would be of much help to her unless she intended to do what he had threatened to do to her and shoot his hand off. No, the phone was what she needed. The phone that resided in the killer's front pants pocket. She wondered if it's placement had been purposeful. She wouldn't put it past the man. His every thought seemed calculated in one way or another. She would just have to buck up. Like he said, whatever it takes. Right, she could do this.

The navy blue uniform pants weren't skin tight but they were far too form-fitted for her comfort and not just because it made it harder for her to snatch the phone. Lisa only hoped that he was really out of it. Hesitantly, she brushed her fingers along the opening to the pocket. Jackson didn't stir. She took a deep breath and slowly slid her hand down.

How much more humiliating would this get, she wondered. She was feeling-up an unconscious assassin that she had cuffed herself to without forethought. Yeah, Jackson was right. It had been a stupid thing to do. What was done, was done. Now she just needed to do, what needed to be done.

Lisa bit down on her lip as her fingers brushed the top of the cell phone. She blushed to her hairline as she realized she would have to reach down several more inches to get a good grasp. She was now leaning half over his prone form, her face scant inches from his. She wanted badly to just jerk her hand, and the phone, free but she couldn't risk it. Her breath played lightly across his face and he sighed lightly. Lisa froze. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep her fast beating heart from leaping out of her chest. Lisa pursed her lips and slid her hand further down.

And opened her eyes to meet orbs of sky blue, "Aren't you going to kiss me first?"


	10. Chapter 10

Fear of Flying

_Well, I'm trying to set up motivations and opportunities to see the other side of both of these characters but I can't justify a quick change so I hope I can keep everyone entertained until these two can meet in the middle. I don't think either can dismiss the chemistry between them but where will it take them?_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Lisa squealed in surprise and lurched sideways, managing to pull Jackson with her in her haste to put distance between them. He groaned slightly as he rolled, laying his arm protectively across his chest. Pulling back against the cuffs, he stopped their momentum with a jerk. Lisa's eyes were wide and her breath harsh. She was in fight or flight mode.

"Lisa, relax." He put up his hand, placating. "Just stop. I'm not going to retaliate. Relax.." He collapsed back into the straw. "How long was I out?"

Lisa was still pulled taut against the cuffs as far from him as possible, which wasn't nearly far enough in her mind. "Not long, about twenty minutes."

He smiled, "I'm surprised you waited that long."

The killer seemed truly unfazed, not angry at all. Then again he was deadly calm when he terrorized and knocked her unconscious surrounded by no less than a hundred people. Lisa hesitantly scooted to a more comfortable position. She shrugged lightly. "I had the opportunity. I took it."

He nodded. "Of course you did. I wouldn't expect anything less." He closed his eyes briefly then opened them, "You might want to think about risk assessment though."

"What? Are you seriously trying to school me in Assassins 101?"

He continued on as if she hadn't spoken, "Did you take into account that I might react violently if you tried to move against me?"

Lisa swallowed hard but she met his eyes, "I did. It was still worth it."

He smirked, "I'll bet it was.. too bad I was so out of it. You have any pockets?"

"Shut up." Why was it so easy for them to fall into this seeming flirtation? She could understand his previous behavior. He needed to manipulate her in order to keep her under control. But now? Was that all he was doing here and now? What was the point?

The killer scanned the room, his eyes taking in every possibility. "We're in a bad position here. Out in the open like this." He glanced back at the door. "The place isn't defendable by two people."

"Not like we had a lot of options," she reminded him "Hey, look." Lisa motioned to a bank of shelves on the opposite wall.

"What?" he struggled to a more upright position.

"There next to the shelf. There's a faucet. I'm so thirsty. You think you could make it over there?" Her mouth was so dry and that little fright just now hadn't helped.

"Yeah, I'm pretty thirsty too." Jackson got an elbow under him and sat up with a groan. His face had gone pale again.

"Is it bad?" Lisa wanted to smack herself. Why was it so hard to get it through her head that this man didn't deserve any kind of courtesy? She wasn't some naïve school girl. His casual charm was nothing but camouflage meant to lure her into complacency. She was disgusted with herself. He was right all along. Her female driven, emotion based reactions were a liability. She had to remember that everything that had happened between them had been an act. An act that had already broken through her defenses once. She couldn't let it happen again.

"Bad enough," he rasped. He pressed his palm against his chest. "I don't think the stitches are pulled but the wounds are oozing. Too much moving around." He looked her directly in the eyes, "Try not to get any smart ideas Leese. The phone thing I'll let slide, it amuses me, but try anything else, especially when my patience is thin and I make no promises. Do you understand me?

"I understand you too well."

"Good. Now how about a drink of water?" Jackson rocked forward and came to his knees.

Lisa stood and waited. She wasn't about to help Jackson to his feet. They weren't partners in crime, she was his captive. Anything she could do to thwart him and buy some time until she could find help was the plan. Besides, she hardly thought that Jackson would appreciate being coddled, even wounded as he was.

Jackson put his hand against the ground and pushed up... nearly pulling her right into his lap. She went down on one knee and found herself yet again mere inches from the assassin. She tensed and he smirked slightly. Apparently, he wasn't in that much pain that he couldn't play a few games.

His eyes lowered slowly to her lips and traveled up to meet her gaze. "Do you believe in destiny?"

She went completely still at the incongruous query, forgetting about their awkward position. "What?" What the hell was he talking about now? That certainly wasn't a question you expected to hear from someone who prided themselves on non-emotional, fact based, logic. He was doing it again, keeping her off balance and unsettled.

"Part of my job is to assess probabilities and I have to tell you that the statistical probability of our continued association is astronomical. Yet here we are," his breath ghosted her cheek and she shivered partly from fear and partly from something she didn't care to identify.

Lisa swallowed hard, "Are we going to get a drink or not?" Up close, his eyes were almost magnetic in their intensity and she wanted to look away. But she couldn't. She didn't dare. There was no telling what he might do.

A smug smile played upon his lips and he leaned in, any closer and they'd be kissing. "You're in my way."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Jackson leaned over and scooped water into his palm running it through his hair and over his face. That felt much, much better. He leaned back against the wall and watched as Lisa took a turn wiping some of the grime from their trek away. He watched her hands as they caressed up and down her arms.

She definitely wasn't his type. She had that girl next door innocent beauty that he seldom paid any attention to, it wasn't his world. He barely remembered that kind of life. Mostly because he chose not to, there was no reason to add any complications. This woman shouldn't hold any interest for him. She was a pretty girl with green eyes and golden brown hair that lived an average life where nothing more exciting than... well, him... happened. And maybe that's why he was intrigued.

"Wow, that feels so much better. Now if we could only find something to eat," she announced.

"Plenty of hay," he quipped. He liked that little spark that flashed in her eyes when he provoked her.

"Oh, ha, ha. You know your idea of wit is seriously twisted."

He looked away. He'd come up against some seriously dangerous people in his career and he'd always managed to come out on top. He was, after all, seriously dangerous himself. Still, he understood that at some point it would come down to luck and you couldn't factor that into any equation. Someone better would eventually put an end to him. But this? This naïve, incredibly strong willed, woman had beaten him where any number of bad guys had failed. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Oh, he'd had plenty of time to figure out where he'd gone wrong. He wasn't an idiot. But that still didn't explain why she had gotten under his skin in the first place.

At first, he thought it was all ego. His temper had gotten the best of him when he should have walked away. But that didn't really explain all of it. What he had done was so reckless and out of control that he hardly recognized himself. His position demanded that he be able to divorce himself from common emotional failings. His sheer rage at the young woman proved to him the folly of that assumption. Apparently, he could still be reached on an emotional level that he wasn't aware he still had.

Lisa maneuvered herself around trying vainly to keep some distance between them as she rubbed her hand along the back of her neck. He watched as some of the water droplets dripped around her throat and disappeared down the front of her blouse. He remembered the scar hidden just below the fabric. There was much more to her than what you could see.

After he dismissed ego then he considered libido. Could it be that he was merely being led around by his dick? That made even less sense. He enjoyed women as often as he was able, beautiful exotic creatures that would do things that most men couldn't even imagine even in their most pornographic dreams. What possible interest could he have in Lisa? But he did. He was attracted to her and had been since he first started watching her for the Keefe assignment.

He first assumed it was just the idea of being able to corrupt something so wholesome and naïve, at least that's where his fantasies had taken him. But then when he actually met her and saw her strength of character in action he found that he liked her. He liked the challenge her normalcy presented.

"Aren't you going to try your phone?"

He shook his head, "They can track the signal if it's used. It's only as a last resort. If you'd managed to use it you would have brought the bad guys right to our door."

"The bad guys? You mean... like you." she reminded.

"Just like me."

He'd done so many things in his life, some of which, people would find monstrous. But one thing he'd never done was lead a normal life. There were times that night when he was charming his way with Lisa that he wondered what it would be like to have an average life where he was allowed the simplicity of flirting with a girl without an ulterior motive. But it didn't mean anything. It couldn't.

The whole situation had been a clusterfuck from the beginning. A rush job on a high level target. He should have declined. That_ was _all ego. All his carefully laid plans shot to hell when the schedule was upset at the last moment. Keefe was expected to alter his arrival time. It was a common security procedure. He had accounted for that but Lisa's grandmother dying, yeah, that was a problem. There was no one on the team that could handle persuasion without a fist or firearm. That left him to step up and complete the assignment. It was hardly ideal. The whole thing should have been rescheduled but that wasn't an option.

He was already frustrated when got on the plane. Now any fantasies he held regarding the young woman shifted to wanting to break her into a thousand pieces. So maybe he'd been crueler than necessary but he had a job to do and Lisa wasn't cooperating. Given what he had intended to do to her if the plan hadn't been altered and he'd had privacy, well, the mind games wouldn't have been necessary. It would have been sheer brutality followed by a quick death.

"So what now?" Lisa looked around the open space of their current hideout.

Jackson shook himself from his introspection. "We wait."

"For what?"

"Why don't you just let me do the thinking? Don't worry your pretty little head," he condescended.

Lisa put her hand on her hip. "Cut the crap. I know what you're doing."

"Oh? And what am I doing?" he inwardly smiled.

"You're keeping me distracted. You don't want me plotting. Especially when you're not in the best of shape. You're worried that I might be able to get the upper hand."

Her assessment hit far too close to home for his comfort but he was also just the tiniest bit impressed. Pulling on the cuffs he dragged the young woman back over to the make-shift bed of straw. "Lie down."

"Excuse me?"

"Shot, stabbed, remember?" he clipped. "We can't go anywhere until dark and I need to get some rest. Being that we are currently conjoined twins, I sleep, you sleep. You have a problem with that?"

"Other than not wanting to be that close to you, no."

"Well then, you're going to like this even less." He jerked hard on the cuffs pulling her to his side. "We're going to lie down now and I don't want any grief from you, understand? Now lie down on your side, facing that way," he motioned.

"What? No. Why?" she tried to back away but there was nowhere to go.

"Why? Because I'm not going to give you any opportunities to get clever. So you and I are going to spoon. Won't that be special?" his voice held a dangerous insinuation.

"Not going to happen. Not ever." she stated adamantly.

Jackson leaned forward and grasped her tightly around the neck. "I wasn't asking you, Leese. I'm telling you, you _will_ lie down, rather or not you get back up.. is up to you."

Lisa tried to pry his fingers from her neck. He responded by squeezing tighter constricting her air flow. "If you don't want to sleep voluntarily, I can provide assistance."

"Please," she managed to rasp out, "Please stop. Not again. It can't happen again." Hot tears poured down her cheeks.

Jackson's cold expression was unmoved until suddenly comprehension touched his eyes and he released his grip.

Lisa sucked in large gasps of air.

"Lisa, look at me. Look at me." He put his finger under her chin and brought her face up to his. "Listen to me. I do a job. It's business. If I hurt someone it's because that's what I was contracted to do. But I'm a professional. I don't derive pleasure from other's pain. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She looked into his eyes hoping to reach him, "Do you think that makes you less a monster?"

His expression hardened again. "That mouth of yours.. is going to get you... dead."

"I'm not here because of any job. You already said as much. You want revenge for what's happened. You want to hurt me. So why wouldn't you want to hurt me like this?" she gestured to the straw.

Jackson shook his head slowly, "You really have that low an opinion of me? I'm not some common criminal. You don't think that I have boundaries?"

"And just where would those boundaries be, Jack? You were going to kill two children with that blast at the hotel."

"I might have been the instrument of their deaths but I wasn't the one that wanted them dead. There is a distinction."

"What distinction? That's nothing but an excuse to try and justify your horrific behavior. You couldn't care less if those kids died."

"You're right. I don't care. Just like I don't care if you want this or not. I told you, you have nothing to fear from me, not like that. This discussion is over. Now lie down. NOW!"

Lisa knew there would be no changing his mind. She could only pray that he meant what he said, that he wasn't so vicious. There were a couple of moments on the red eye flight where she thought she could reach him. A moment or two where the situation touched him on a real level. But those instances were far less in evidence than his cold, calculating machinations. There might not be anything human left inside him to reach.

"Lisa.. lie.. down."

She let the tears flow but refused to make a sound. Even if she could manage to overpower him while he was weakened... then what? There was no way to get out of the cuffs and there was no one around. Slowly, she dropped to her knees and lay down. Turning her back to him, she lay out on her side.

Jackson waited until she seemed calm then knelt down. He lay down behind her and pressed in close leaving only a sliver of air between them. He let his arm come to rest casually over her waist. She tensed but he seemed to pay her no mind. He yawned, a small exhalation of sound tickled at her ear. "Relax, Leese, I'm not going to hurt you. Get some sleep, you're going to need it."

She could feel him settle behind her. His breath gradually slowed and she tried to turn her head to get a look. His startling vivid blue eyes were closed. It was hard not to notice how attractive he was, at least on the outside. She chastised herself. His attractiveness was not in question but what lay underneath the façade of charm, the good looks, belied the ugly nature beneath.

Hot tears coursed down her cheeks as exhaustion took her.


	11. Chapter 11

When Lisa next opened her eyes, the sunlight bled red along the ground. What the hell was she thinking? She'd slept the entire day away. Her body had needed the rest, it was that simple. Battered and bruised, dragged through the hills by an assassin, when had her life gotten so crazy? She turned her head slowly and peered over her shoulder. She knew exactly when it had gotten so crazy.

Jackson's eyes were still closed and his breath was slow and steady. He was physically far worse-off than she. Leese raised herself up slightly on her elbow. Jackson's arm was still draped casually along her waist. She looked around the straw next to their make-shift bed. Maybe there was something she could use against him. Or better yet... not more than three feet to the left of her head lay a small piece of wire. She didn't know what it was part-of and she couldn't say she cared. All she knew was the slender piece of metal could be her salvation.

Gingerly, she lay back. She had to think this through. The wire was too far away to just reach up and grab it. At the least, she would need to stretch in such a way that her straw mate was bound to wake. Perhaps, if she rolled flat onto her back, she could get more reach. No, that wouldn't do it. She needed to be closer, like where Jackson now rested. She glanced down at the arm draped over her.

He had kept his word. He hadn't tried to hurt her in any way. Now that she was calmer about the whole situation, she realized, it was unlikely that the assassin would have done something that vile... not that murder wasn't vile, but, damn, it was confusing. _He _was confusing. How could a murderer have a code of conduct? And how twisted was that, anyway?

It shouldn't matter to her. Her morals had always been clear-cut, black and white. There was good and there was evil. While people might give excuses for why they committed evil acts, it didn't change the facts. Besides, Jackson certainly didn't make any apologies for what he was nor did he really try and justify himself. Why couldn't she just accept what he said at face value?

She knew what the killer next to her would say, but then again, he was a sexist prick. Or at least, he played at being one. He'd done it on the plane in order to intimidate her and he was doing it now in order to keep her off her game but was that really what he thought? Somehow, it didn't quite fit. Oh, she didn't doubt the arrogance of the man but she was also sensing something deeper. No matter what he said, there was something more beneath the mask. Hopefully, it wasn't something worse. In a job like Jackson's it was likely that you would have to play many parts so which one was the real Jackson Rippner?

She sighed lightly, might as well get this over and done. Moving as slowly as possible, she pressed herself gently against the sleeping man. Oh god, she couldn't believe she was doing this but it was a matter of survival. Keep your eyes on the prize.

Lisa closed her eyes tightly when he shifted slightly in his exhausted slumber. Please, don't wake up. If it had been bad before, caught with her hand in his pocket, this was worse. She could feel every line of his muscle, every chiseled plane... and bulge. They melded together like two pieces of a puzzle.

Lisa tilted her head back to try and get a look. Jackson still had his eyes closed and his breath was slow and deep. So far, so good... if you counted his warm breath, tickling at the back of her neck to be good. Jackson had made it clear what he would do should she try to escape again. That almost stalled her actions but who knew when she might get another chance.

Warily, she stretched her arm up. He shifted again, his face now nuzzling into her shoulder. How much worse could this get? She counted to ten and looked over her shoulder. Jackson's eyes were still closed but his breath wasn't nearly as deep. She needed to hurry. She extended her arm outwards, literally grasping at straw. The long piece of wire was almost in her reach. There! She curled her fingers tightly around her salvation. A long exhalation of breath escaped her lips. So close, now.

Lisa glanced down to the arm encircling her waist. She could do this. Right, like she knew anything about how to pick a lock, let alone the lock on a pair of handcuffs. How hard could it be? Spies on TV did it all the time. She turned to take a quick peek but Jackson had his head down, pressed in tight against her shoulder. Grasping the steel bracelet around her wrist, she rotated it to the side and slipped the thin wire into the keyhole. There should be a release mechanism along the edge? But wait, it didn't work like that did it? She needed two pieces of wire, one, to hold back the thingie and the other wire to turn the other thingie. She might not know what they were called but she _had_ paid attention to all those spy shows.

Lisa pulled the wire out and pressed it against the ground, bending into it a U shape. Now she had her two wires but how would she be able to position them both with only one hand? Trying not to jerk her cuffed hand, she maneuvered the wire back into the keyhole but no matter how she wiggled it she didn't have enough dexterity to release the lock. She couldn't twist her wrist too much or her conjoined twin would feel it. What the hell was she going to do now?

"You really need two hands to pick a lock properly," a soft voice mumbled into her shoulder.

Lisa let out a squeal but before she could move an inch the arm around her tightened into a vise. Her arms were now pinned. She couldn't even kick him any place vital in this position. She was screwed with a capital S. She tried to roll to the side to free her other arm but Jackson just forced her over onto her stomach and straddled her, his weight pressing her into the straw.

"Get off me!"

"I don't think so," he responded smoothly.

She shrieked again and rocked side to side attempting to knock him off but he just rode her like a rodeo cowboy. "Get off! Let me up!"

Jackson pulled back on their mutually cuffed wrists, twisting her arm painfully behind her.

"You're hurting me! Stop!"

He leaned over Lisa's back and whispered in her ear. "Have you noticed that the only one really hurting you... is you? Calm down."

Lisa stopped struggling and snorted. "What are you? Part cat?"

"Pretty much or maybe you're just not quite as deft as you like to think," Jackson smirked. He reached around for her other arm and Lisa tucked it in, under her chest. "Do you really think that will stop me? I can feel around if you like."

As he started to reach under her and she squealed, "Keep your hands to yourself! Don't you dare!"

"Last chance. Give me what's in your hand or I'll take it... and enjoy myself while I do." Jackson leaned back. Using his knees, he pressed into her upper arms.

"Owwww. Please." The tears filled her eyes unbidden. It hurt damn it. "Fine!" she shouted and pulled her arm free. "Take the damn thing and choke on it." She offered up the fine wire.

Jackson looked at the bent metal and smiled lightly. "Very resourceful. It's what I would have done. Good job."

"What? Are you complimenting me?" she tried to twist around to get a look at him. He forced her head back around. "Hey!"

"Stay still. Not that I don't trust you, but I don't." Jackson began working the keyhole on his side of the cuffs. "There's a latch pin inside the mechanism. You use one end to press it back and then you use the other to turn the pins. It takes practice but once you get the hang of it," the cuff popped open with a snick. "You can open them every time."

"Peachy. Now... please, get the hell off of me." The straw was starting to make her nose itch. That's all she needed, snot running down her face.

"I think we need to have a little chat first."

Lisa started to struggle again, "Whatever you want to say to me, you can say it when I'm upright, damn it!"

"Such language. You really need to treat me better, Leese. Being, that I literally hold your life in my hands," he stated smugly.

Lisa grew still, "Is this the part where you threaten to A) kill me, B) kill me painfully C) kill me again?" She knew it was reckless in the extreme but she had to know one way or the other. Injuries aside, Jackson was right. There was very little good reason to keep her around and every reason to get rid of her. He killed people for a living, he wasn't shy with violence. So why was she _really_ still alive? "What is it you really want from me, Jackson?"


	12. Chapter 12

The room became so quiet. You could hear the gentle breeze blowing through the open slats of the walls. It carried the faint scent of wildflowers. At another time, it might even be soothing. "Please. Do you think we could just talk to each other for once without the threats or the anger?"

"That's better," he said. Without preamble, he stood, pulling Lisa up by the cuff which he still held in his hand.

"Ow, wait, not so fast." She came to her feet unsteadily. "Would you mind letting go?" she huffed.

He just smirked back at her. "We need to have that chat first. Set some ground rules, now that you're off the leash... so to speak."

"You are a serious control freak, aren't you? I know what you're going to say already. Try to escape, you die. Try to alert anyone, you die. Try to bash you in the head, you... I get all that. What I don't get is the real reason that I'm still alive. I know you weren't kidding back there when you talked about it being easier for you to just..." she swallowed hard, "Cut me loose. But you didn't."

Jackson studied her face, "I told you why I..."

"You lied! Oh, sorry, you evaded the truth. I get that you're beyond angry with me but hauling me around so you can torture me to death later really doesn't make much sense now does it. You're risking your own life by keeping me alive. Of course, you could just be flat out bug shit crazy but I don't really get that vibe from you."

There was that little smile again. Like she'd said something that amused him, it was becoming disconcerting. She felt like she was missing something obvious. "What? Seriously, what!"

Jackson pulled her forward by the cuff until there were scant few inches between them. It was just another tactic to make her uncomfortable and keep her off balance. Well, screw him. She wasn't about to back down now. Lisa stood her ground, looking directly into his haunting eyes. "Well?"

His eyes searched her face but what he was looking for she couldn't say. He seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and offered, "You'd think the fact that you're still alive would be enough but not for you. You are one ballsy young woman."

Lisa frowned, "Uh, thanks? But you still haven't answered my question. Why am I still alive?"

Jackson broke eye contact. That was interesting. He looked down at their hands, his, now wrapped tight around her wrist. The open cuff dangled between them. She watched him carefully, trying to read the nearly blank expression on his face. Damn, his super ninja assassin training! She needed to know where she really stood. Was there a chance, even a slim one, that she could make it out of this alive?

His gaze still elsewhere, he started to say... something, but the sound of wheels on gravel broke whatever odd moment of honesty they seemed to be headed towards. Lisa was almost annoyed by the interruption but then reality set-in and she tensed for action.

Jackson grabbed her and spun her around, his hand coming across her mouth. "Don't," he hissed, "Just don't." "I know what you're thinking, but think again. You don't know who that is out there. You think it's your salvation? It could, as easily, be your death. Think it through."

He was right. She didn't like it but he was right. She could fight and scream, risking his angry reaction, only to find herself running into a bullet. She nodded once.

"Be sure about this, Leese. This is about to get serious. Don't make me have to do something I don't want to do." He pulled the revolver from his waistband.

She stared at him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he giving her an out or offering it to the potential innocent that was headed their way? Her eyes went to the gun in his hand. Someone could well be dead in a few minutes. "I understand."

"Come with me." He took her by the hand and pulled over to the open slatted section of the wall. He pressed her back against the roughhewed boards. "Stay quiet and follow my lead." He scowled at her, "Don't make me regret this."

If she hadn't known any better she might think that he was offering his trust but she did know better. Someone like Jackson wasn't capable of such a thing. Unbidden, she wondered what would happen if she accepted, just let him lead them out of this mess. Yeah, right. Trust the assassin that blew up a building and tried to kill her... and her father. She pressed her lips into a thin line. She'd think it through, all right.

An old blue pick-up truck was bouncing down the road towards them. She couldn't see well enough to tell who was in the cab but she found herself praying that it was a bad guy. She couldn't, she wouldn't, be able to just stand by if someone was about to get shot. No matter what she had just told Jackson. She owed him less than nothing and she certainly wasn't above lying.

The vehicle rolled to a stop just outside the old shed. Jackson was in complete professional mode. Lisa could practically feel the coiled danger pouring off him. She risked a glance around him and saw an older man pulling something from behind the seat of the truck. He didn't look particularly threatening but then again she, apparently, wasn't the best judge of character.

Jackson raised the revolver and pulled back the hammer. Lisa gasped softly. What should she do? She didn't even know if that was a good guy or bad guy. If she interfered and was wrong it could get them both killed.

"Relax, Leese," he glanced back at her. "Assess your options carefully. If you let your emotions take over, you lose control of the situation. I was reminded of that lesson recently. The hard way." He gave her a wan smile.

She wanted to retort but the sound of a truck door stalled her quip.

The older man had pulled a tool box from the truck and was headed towards the same door they had stumbled through the day before. "Jackson, please. He's not part of this, you can see that. Don't kill him."

"We don't know anything. Look closely. How do you know what's in that box," he whispered.

Her eyes locked on the toolbox. It was easily big enough for a weapon. But he would have to get it open first. How would he do that if Jackson was in the shed? Seemed awfully risky. The man walked slowly towards the door, his face tilted up towards the sky as if soaking up the sun. He didn't seem on alert. He wasn't looking around at his environment. His walk was relaxed and unconcerned.

She shook her head. "It would be stupid to put your weapon in a latched box and then walk into a building where you might need it. Besides, he doesn't walk like a killer."

Jackson stifled a chuckle, "Is that your professional opinion?" He grabbed her by the arm before she could respond and pulled her towards the door. Positioning himself to her side, he pressed the revolver lightly at her back. "You're right, by the way. Not for the reasons you think, but still, a fair assessment. Just remember what I said."

She nodded, her throat had gone dry. Her nerves were getting the better of her and she knew why. Jackson would shoot the man as he came through the doorway. She knew it. "Please, don't," she whispered. "I know what you're going to do and I'm asking you not to. Find another way."

He cocked his head, looking at her oddly. Something shifted in his eyes and he pulled her to the side, behind stack of baled hay. He held his finger to his lips and she nodded her understanding. He turned slightly, keeping both the man and her in sight. The revolver was cocked and held steady in his hand. She was a fool. Why would he show any compassion? What was there to gain?

The man strolled into the shed without hesitation. If he was an assassin, he was a careless one and he was now nearly a dead one. He sat the toolbox on the nearest bale of hay and pulled a pair of heavy leather gloves from his back pocket. Once slipped from his grasp and landed on his boot. He leaned over to reclaim it...


	13. Chapter 13

Jackson moved before she could even squeak. The assassin darted towards the vulnerable man just as he was rising. He brought the butt of the revolver down hard on the back of his head, and he dropped like a stone onto the straw. The assassin staggered slightly and pressed his arm across his chest.

"Oh my god, oh my god, what have you done?!"

Jackson's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "I did what you asked me to do!"

"I didn't ask you to brain some poor old man!" Lisa bent down and started checking the back of his head. "He's bleeding! He could have a concussion or aneurism."

"Are you serious?" Jackson retorted. "You wanted me to find another way. I found another way! What's the problem? Did you think he would just let us take his truck if we asked nicely? Maybe, he'd promise not to tell anyone about us too."

Lisa stood and put her hands on her hips. "Well, we won't know one way or the other, now, will we? You didn't have to hit him like that!"

Jackson's eyes narrowed to slits. He shrugged, "You're right, I didn't. He casually pointed the gun at the prone man.

In that spilt second, Lisa knew that he would fire and she barreled forward knocking the gun to the side and causing Jackson to stumble back into the support beam. The gun went off with a crack. The jarring had obviously exacerbated Jackson's wounds, he was bent at the waist, his hand pressed to his thigh. The opportunity was clear. She could make a run for it. Instead, she took a step forward, putting herself between the downed man and the man about to kill him.

Jackson wheeled on her but didn't raise the gun. She put her hands up pleadingly, "It wasn't an attack. I didn't mean to hurt you. I only wanted to stop you from killing that man." Jackson was good at reading people, having the truth on her side would help her cause. "Are you, all right?"

His expression was again, disturbingly blank. Was he angry? Murderous? Would he kill them both, right there? He straightened himself and brushed down his clothes, his eyes never once leaving her. She was afraid. Anger, she at least understood, but this cold, unflinching attitude was simply inhuman. How could she hope to reach him when he shut down and turned off his humanity?

"Are you going to kill me?"

He leaned back against the beam, his eyes still shuttered and unreadable. "No." He moved to walk around her but she took a step towards him. He looked up, slightly surprised.

"Just no?"

He stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. "What more do you want from me?"

"Well, I..." she started then stopped up short. What did she want from him? Why would she even consider that he would do what she asked and spare... he had done what she asked, he'd spared the man despite the liability. It was more than she thought possible. Lisa looked to the prone man then back to Jackson. "What do you want me to do?"

Jackson raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Come here."

The instant fight or flight response shot up her spine. "Why?"

His eyes turned to ice. "Fine." She approached him, unsure what to expect, now that she was fairly certain he wouldn't kill her without consideration.

"Hold up your hand."

The cuffs, of course. Lisa exhaled a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. Jackson wasn't going to kill an innocent man, at least, not this innocent man. She felt oddly accomplished.

Jackson pulled the bent wire from his pocket and quickly sprung the lock. It was impressive, actually. He handed her back the cuffs.

"What?" she looked at him quizzically.

Jackson motioned. "Put his arms around the beam and cuff him."

"But he's hurt..." the expression on Jackson's face made her snap her mouth shut. She nodded, "Can I at least find something to put water in? It might be awhile before anyone finds him."

"Make it quick. This little act of kindness is going to cost us. We need to get moving." He limped back over to the open slatted area of the wall.

Us? When had they become an us, Lisa wondered.

o=o=o=o=o=o=o

The beat-up old Chevy bounced down the dirt road with a rattle and a groan. Check that, Lisa thought. The groan may have come from the assassin at the wheel. She glanced out of the corner of her eye, hoping he wouldn't notice her scrutiny. Fat chance.

"Whatever you're contemplating. Think again," he intoned.

"I wasn't thinking anything!" she retorted. Well, she might have been thinking how different he looked wearing the leather jacket that he'd taken from the man back in the shed. The color looked good on him. She chastised herself, black as his heart.

He snorted lightly.

"You have a nasty sense of humor, you know that?" she crossed her arms over her chest and stared trenchantly out the window. But she couldn't do it, she couldn't keep quiet. "What now? State-wide killing spree?" Oh god, why had she just said that? What was wrong with her? Jackson had nearly killed a man back at the shed. It was nothing to joke about, even sarcastically. "I'm sorry."

Jackson stared straight ahead but his hands gripped the wheel tighter until his fingers turned white. "That's twice you've apologized to me. Are you planning to make it a habit?"

"I wouldn't count on it, if I were you," she shot back. "But I guess, while I'm at it... I should also say thank you." she turned a bit in her seat so she could watch his face. "You didn't have to let that man go. It would have been safer for you, not to. I don't know why you did that for me but I'm grateful."

Jackson looked over at her, clearly surprised. Then his expression shut down. "You really hold yourself in high esteem, don't you?"

"Oh please, you admitted it! Don't even try..." that small smile was again playing along his lips. "You're messing with me, again. Do you get some kind of rise out of pissing me off? Because the last time you and I went head to head, I beat you down!" her tone wasn't nearly as harsh as it should have been. In fact, anyone who didn't know their history might even think she was teasing him.

"Clearly, I didn't understand that I was dealing with a force of nature. I am now forewarned, Leese." What should have been a threat, plainly, wasn't.

The road up ahead turned into pavement and Lisa leaned forward. "Looks like we've found signs of civilization." She chewed her bottom lip, "Would it do me any good to ask again?"

"What do you think I should do with you?" he queried flippantly.

"Don't, please don't do that. It's cruel," she turned away.

Jackson glanced over to her and then back to the road ahead. "I'll make a deal with you."

Lisa's eyebrows shot up. "And what deal might that be?"

"I've been over this in my head a million times." The truck slowed as Jackson turned onto a wider two lane highway. He seemed to relax in his seat when the ride finally smoothed out. "There's only one option if you want to get out of this alive."

"And what's that?" Lisa's gaze took-in everything around her. She gritted her teeth. Nothing was familiar. She was still just as lost... and still alone with a killer.

"I need to get to my contact, Renaud. He's the only one that can rescind the kill order."

Kill order. This was the kind of life that Jackson led, a life, where the hunter could easily become, the prey. "What does any of that have to do with me?"

Jackson smiled unpleasantly, "You still think you can walk away from this? Even if I'm caught or killed, you're a loose end. Believe me when I say, they don't like loose ends. Your fate is now tied to mine so you might want to consider that before you try to escape again."

While that might be true, who was he kidding? "You expect me to believe that I'm somehow safer with you than with the authorities? Please."

Jackson's voice was low and cold, "If you knew what I knew, you wouldn't be so quick to run into their arms."

"What's the supposed to mean?" Lisa eyed him. What vague insinuation was he trying to make? And to what end? "Why don't you stop playing games with me and tell me what's really going on?"


End file.
